


The Sum of Our Choices: The Mark of Athena

by TheTimeTraveler24



Series: The Sum of Our Choices [6]
Category: Magnus Chase and the Gods of Asgard - Rick Riordan, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alive Bianca di Angelo, Annabeth and Percy are scared, Awesome Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano, BAMF Annabeth Chase, Book 3: The Mark of Athena (Heroes of Olympus), Book 5: The Tower of Nero (Trials of Apollo), F/M, Gen, Hazel Levesque is a Good Sibling, Hurt Nico di Angelo, Jason Grace is a Good Friend, M/M, Nico di Angelo & Jason Grace Friendship, Piper McLean is a Good Friend, Protective Will Solace, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, i will warn you at the beginning of chapters if there might be spoilers, will mention things from Tower of Nero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:49:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 55
Words: 130,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27169570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimeTraveler24/pseuds/TheTimeTraveler24
Summary: Maybe it's not always about trying to fix something broken. Maybe it's about starting over and creating something better.ANNABETH is getting ready to face the Weaver. But facing the Weaver means walking to the place where she and Percy are going to fall.LEO won't lie. He's better with machines than people. Doesn't mean he wants to be the seventh wheel.PIPER really doesn't like her dagger. It keeps showing her the things that end up getting her and her friends hurt.PERCY knows what's coming. It's taking every ounce of strength he has not to drag Annabeth away from the quest screaming.NICO thinks he probably screwed up. And Will is definitely going to kill him when he gets back from the quest. If he comes back.The Quest of Seven sets sail for Rome. All too soon it becomes apparent that this isn't going to be an easy mission. Secrets and identities are revealed. Percy and Annabeth discover the horrifying consequences of keeping certain things to themselves. And not everyone is exactly on board with the plan.
Relationships: Annabeth Chase & Leo Valdez, Annabeth Chase & Nico di Angelo, Annabeth Chase & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase (Percy Jackson) & Magnus Chase & Alex Fierro & Percy Jackson, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Ethan Nakamura & Allegra Nakamura (O.C.), Ethan Nakamura & Allegra Nakamura (O.C.) & Bianca di Angelo, Gleeson Hedge & Everyone, Hazel Levesque & Frank Zhang, Hazel Levesque & Leo Valdez, Hazel Levesque/Frank Zhang, Jason Grace & Percy Jackson, Jason Grace & Piper McLean, Jason Grace & Piper McLean & Leo Valdez, Leo Valdez & Frank Zhang, Magnus Chase & Alex Fierro, Magnus Chase/Alex Fierro, Nico di Angelo & Jason Grace, Nico di Angelo & Percy Jackson, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Percy Jackson & Hazel Levesque & Frank Zhang
Series: The Sum of Our Choices [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1781341
Comments: 555
Kudos: 278





	1. The Statue Likes Technicalities (Annabeth I)

ANNABETH WAS NERVOUS. Sure, she’d been waiting for this moment for months, but now that she was actually here…

Well, it was nerve-wracking.

She paced the deck of their flying warship, the  _ Argo II _ , checking and double-checking the ballistae to make sure they were locked down. She confirmed that the white “We come in peace” flag was flying from the mast. She reviewed the plan with the rest of the crew—and the backup plan, and the backup plan for the backup plan.

Most important, she pulled aside their war-crazed chaperone, Coach Gleeson Hedge, and encouraged him to take the morning off in his cabin and watch reruns of mixed martial arts championships. The last thing they needed as they flew a magical Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp was a middle-aged satyr in gym clothes waving a club and yelling “Die!”

Actually, the last thing they needed as they flew a magical Greek trireme into a potentially hostile Roman camp was a possessed son of Hephaestus who knew exactly which buttons made the ship do the most damage.

Annabeth still wasn’t sure how to prevent that. It would be all she could do to keep everyone on the ground and away from the explosives.

Everything seemed to be in order. Everything except the chill of the eidolons.

She wished Nico had come with them. He had promised he would if he was back in time. Since the son of Hades hadn’t shown up, she had to assume that meant something had held him up. Considering Nico’s mission, Annabeth didn’t think she wanted to know what that something was. She already felt guilty enough for letting him go.

The warship descended through the clouds, and Annabeth tapped her fingers anxiously on the rail. There was so much that could go wrong. So much that she  _ knew _ could go wrong.

Either way, it was too late to turn back now.

The clouds broke around their hull, revealing the gold-and-green carpet of the Oakland Hills below them. Annabeth gripped one of the bronze shields that lined the starboard rail. Her three crewmates took their places.

On the stern quarterdeck, Leo rushed around like a madman, checking his gauges and wrestling levers. Most helmsmen would’ve been satisfied with a pilot’s wheel or a tiller. Leo had also installed a keyboard, monitor, aviation controls from a Learjet, a dubstep soundboard, and motion-control sensors from a Nintendo Wii. He could turn the ship by pulling on the throttle, fire weapons by sampling an album, or raise sails by shaking his Wii controllers really fast. Even by demigod standards, Leo was seriously ADHD.

Piper paced back and forth between the mainmast and the ballistae, practicing her lines. “Lower your weapons,” she murmured. “We just want to talk.”

Her charmspeak was so powerful, the words flowed over Annabeth, filling her with the desire to drop her dagger and have a nice long chat.

For a child of Aphrodite, Piper tried hard to play down her beauty. Today she was dressed in tattered jeans, worn-out sneakers, and a white tank top with pink Hello Kitty designs. (Maybe as a joke, though Annabeth could never be sure with Piper.) Her choppy brown hair was braided down the right side with an eagle’s feather.

Then there was Jason. He stood at the bow on the raised crossbow platform, where the Romans could easily spot him. His knuckles were white on the hilt of his golden sword. Otherwise he looked calm for a guy who was making himself a target. Over his jeans and orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, he’d donned a toga and a purple cloak—symbols of his old rank as praetor. With his wind-ruffled blond hair and his icy blue eyes, he looked ruggedly handsome and in control. Most importantly, he looked so  _ alive _ .

Annabeth hadn’t been at the funeral. She hadn’t seen Jason’s dead body, but she’d seen enough death to picture what he would have looked like. It had been such a relief to see Jason that day at the Grand Canyon.

Though the first time she might have been a little distrusting of Jason, Annabeth knew now that all of her reservations were completely wrong.

Annabeth shivered as she felt the eidolon’s presence. If felt as if a psychotic snowman had crept up behind her and was breathing down her neck. She turned, but no one was there.

She let out a breath. “It’s going to be fine,” she said to herself as if saying it would make it true. Inwardly, she cursed. She’d probably just jinxed them.

Annabeth wished she could pray to her mother for guidance, but that wasn’t possible now. Not after last month, when she’d seen her mom and received the Mark.

The cold pressed closer. She thought she heard a faint voice in the wind, laughing. Every muscle in her body tensed. It was taking every ounce of restraint she had not to order Leo to reverse course.

Then, in the valley below, horns sounded. The Romans had spotted them.

Annabeth knew what to expect. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen Camp Jupiter. Still, descending through the clouds, the sight was breathtaking.

Ringed by the Oakland Hills, the valley was at least twice the size of Camp Half-Blood. A small river—the Tiber—snaked around one side and curled toward the center like a capital letter G, emptying into a sparkling blue lake.

Directly below the ship, nestled at the edge of the lake, the city of New Rome gleamed in the sunlight. She recognized landmarks such as the hippodrome, the coliseum, the temples and parks, the neighborhood of Seven Hills with its winding streets, colorful villas, and flowering gardens.

She saw evidence of the Romans’ recent battle with an army of monsters. The dome of the Senate House was cracked open. The forum’s broad plaza was pitted with craters. Some fountains and statues were in ruins.

Dozens of kids in togas were streaming out of the Senate House to get a better view of the _ Argo II _ . More Romans emerged from the shops and cafés, gawking and pointing as the ship descended.

About half a mile to the west, where the horns were blowing, a Roman fort stood on a hill. It looked just like the illustrations Annabeth had seen in military history books—with a defensive trench lined with spikes, high walls, and watchtowers armed with scorpion ballistae. Inside, perfect rows of white barracks lined the main road—the Via Principalis.

A column of demigods emerged from the gates, their armor and spears glinting as they hurried toward the city. In the midst of their ranks was an actual war elephant.

Annabeth turned to tell Leo to stop their descent when something behind her went  _ BOOM! _

* * *

The explosion almost knocked her overboard. She whirled and found herself eye to eye with an angry statue.  _ Terminus _ .

“Unacceptable!” he shrieked.

Terminus had exploded into existence, right there on the deck. Sulfurous yellow smoke rolled off his shoulders. Cinders popped around his curly hair. From the waist down, he was nothing but a square marble pedestal. From the waist up, he was a muscular human figure in a carved toga.

“I will not have weapons inside the Pomerian Line!” he announced in a fussy teacher voice. “I certainly will not have Greeks!”

Jason shot Annabeth a look that said, _ I’ve got this _ .

“Terminus,” he said. “It’s me. Jason Grace.”

“Oh, I remember you, Jason!” Terminus grumbled. “I thought you had better sense than to consort with the enemies of Rome!”

“But they’re not enemies—”

“That’s right,” Piper jumped in. “We just want to talk. If we could—”

“Ha!” snapped the statue. “Don’t try that charmspeak on me, young lady. And put down that dagger before I slap it out of your hands!”

“Piper, sheath the dagger,” Annabeth said quickly. “Leo, stop our descent.”

“Are you sure?” Piper asked her questioningly.

Annabeth nodded sharply. “I am.”

Piper slowly returned her dagger to the sheath at her side while Leo brought the ship to a halt.

“Lucky for you I’ve just been through a battle,” Terminus announced. “If I were at full strength, I would’ve blasted this flying monstrosity out of the sky already!”

“Hold up.” Leo stepped forward, wagging his Wii controller. “Did you just call my ship a monstrosity? I know you didn’t do that.”

“Terminus,” Annabeth said, cutting off Leo. “You’re the god of boundaries, right? I’m guessing you don’t want us landing a warship in New Rome.”

The statue sniffed. “Certainly not. Now lay down your weapons and surrender! Leave my city immediately!”

“Which is it?” Leo asked. “Surrender, or leave?”

“Both!” Terminus said. “Surrender, then leave. I am slapping your face for asking such a stupid question, you ridiculous boy! Do you feel that?”

“Wow.” Leo studied Terminus with professional interest. “You’re wound up pretty tight. You got any gears in there that need loosening? I could take a look.” He exchanged the Wii controller for a screwdriver from his magic tool belt and tapped the statue’s pedestal.

“Stop that!” Terminus insisted. A small explosion made Leo drop his screwdriver. “Weapons are not allowed on Roman soil inside the Pomerian Line.”

“The what?” Piper asked.

“City limits,” Jason translated.

“And this entire ship is a weapon!” Terminus said. “You cannot land!”

Down in the valley, the legion reinforcements were halfway to the city. The crowd in the forum was over a hundred strong now. Annabeth scanned the faces and… oh, gods. She saw him. He was walking toward the ship with his arms around two other kids like they were best buddies—a stout boy with a black buzz cut, and a girl wearing a Roman cavalry helmet. Frank and Hazel. Percy looked so at ease, so happy. He wore a purple cape just like Jason’s—the mark of a praetor.

Annabeth’s heart did a gymnastics routine.

“Terminus,” she said, “there’s no rule against hovering over New Rome, is there?”

The statue frowned. “Well, no…”

“We can keep the ship aloft,” Annabeth said. “We’ll use a rope ladder to reach the forum. That way, the ship won’t be on Roman soil. Not technically.”

The statue seemed to ponder this. Annabeth wondered if he was scratching his chin with imaginary hands.

“I like technicalities,” he admitted. “Still…”

“All our weapons will stay aboard the ship,” Annabeth promised. “I assume the Romans—even those reinforcements marching toward us—will also have to honor your rules inside the Pomerian Line if you tell them to?”

“Of course!” Terminus said. “Do I look like I tolerate rule breakers?”

“Uh, Annabeth…” Leo said. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“Not in the slightest,” Annabeth sighed. “But it’s the best choice we’ve got. No one will be armed. We can talk in peace. Terminus will make sure each side obeys the rules.” She looked at the marble statue. “Do we have an agreement?”

Terminus sniffed. “I suppose. For now. You may climb down your ladder to New Rome, daughter of Athena. Please try not to destroy my town.”

Annabeth let out a nervous laugh. “Trust me. I would like nothing more than to  _ not _ destroy your town.” She rubbed her arms like she was trying to warm herself up.

That cold feeling was still there. It floated just behind her, and now that Terminus had agreed to her plan, she thought she could hear the presence laughing, as if it was delighted by the bad choices she was making.

Annabeth took a deep breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First chapter!!!! Super excited to start this!


	2. My Last Line Probably Jinxed Us (Annabeth II)

A SEA OF HASTILY ASSEMBLED demigods parted for Annabeth as she walked through the forum. Some looked tense, some nervous. Some were bandaged from their recent battle with the giants, but no one was armed. No one attacked.

Entire families had gathered to see the newcomers. Annabeth saw couples with babies, toddlers clinging to their parents’ legs, even some elderly folks in a combination of Roman robes and modern clothes. Annabeth recognized a few from the short time she’d spent in New Rome before the college year was due to start.

At the far end of the crowd, Annabeth spotted Tyson the Cyclops and Percy’s hellhound, Mrs. O’Leary—who had been the first scouting party from Camp Half-Blood to reach Camp Jupiter. They looked to be in good spirits. Tyson waved and grinned. He was wearing an SPQR banner like a giant bib.

In front of her, the demigods made way for a girl in full Roman armor and a purple cape. Dark hair tumbled across her shoulders. Her eyes were as black as obsidian.

Reyna.

Medals decorated her armor. She carried herself with such confidence the other demigods backed away and averted their gaze.

Annabeth recognized something else in her face, too—in the hard set of her mouth and the deliberate way she raised her chin like she was ready to accept any challenge. Reyna was forcing a look of courage, while holding back a mixture of hopefulness and worry and fear that she couldn’t show in public.

Annabeth knew that expression. She saw it every time she looked in a mirror.

The two girls considered each other. Annabeth’s friends fanned out on either side. The Romans murmured Jason’s name, staring at him in awe.

Then someone else appeared from the crowd, and Annabeth’s vision tunneled.

Percy smiled at her—that sarcastic, troublemaker smile that had annoyed her for years, but eventually had become endearing. His sea-green eyes were as gorgeous as she remembered. His dark hair was swept to one side, like he’d just come from a walk on the beach. He looked even better than he had six months ago—tanner and taller, leaner and more muscular.

Annabeth surged forward. Percy rushed toward her at the same time. The crowd tensed. Some reached for swords that weren’t there.

Percy threw his arms around her. They kissed, and for a moment nothing else mattered. An asteroid could have hit the planet and wiped out all life, and Annabeth wouldn’t have cared. Percy smelled of ocean air. His lips were salty.

_ Seaweed Brain, _ she thought giddily.

Percy pulled away and studied her face. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” Annabeth murmured. “Did you really? I couldn’t have guessed.”

“Let’s not do that again,” Percy said.

“ _ Never _ again,” Annabeth agreed.

“Do I get a nice greeting like that?” someone asked.

Annabeth looked over Percy’s shoulder and her jaw dropped. “Magnus? Alex? You… what are you  _ doing _ here? How…?” she trailed off, looking at Percy.

“Found them in Alaska,” Percy explained. “It’s a long story.”

Annabeth moved around Percy and squeezed her cousin tight in a hug. “I thought… well, I don’t know what I thought. I found Jack on my pillow and I went to Boston. I couldn’t find either of you! Oh gods, I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Jack,” Magnus said, perking up. “Is he here? Did you bring him?”

“If I didn’t know what you meant by Jack, I might be worried you’re cheating on me, Maggie,” Alex said with a smile. “Good to see you, Annabeth. She and her today.”

Jason cleared his throat. “So, yeah… It’s good to be back.”

He introduced Reyna to Piper, who looked a little miffed that she hadn’t gotten to say the lines she’d been practicing, then to Leo, who grinned and flashed a peace sign.

“And this is Annabeth,” Jason said. “Uh, and I guess you’ve already met her cousin.”

Reyna eyed Annabeth and Magnus. “Cousins? So Magnus and Alex, you two are Greek then?”

“Greek,” Magnus repeated.

“Yep,” Alex nodded. “That’s us. Greek demigods. Absolutely.”

“My cousin and Alex used to stay at Camp Half-Blood,” Annabeth explained. She gave Reyna a smile. “Pleased to meet you.”

It was a second before Reyna clasped her hand firmly. “It seems we have a lot to discuss. Centurions!”

A few of the Roman campers hustled forward—apparently the senior officers. Frank and Hazel appeared at Percy’s side. Annabeth almost moved to greet them before remembering neither of them knew who she was yet.

Hazel kept frowning at Leo like she recognized him and the memory was painful. Annabeth knew they had to figure out how to let Hazel know her connection to Leo, but that would be difficult without giving away too much.

Meanwhile, Reyna was giving orders to her officers. “...tell the legion to stand down. Dakota, alert the spirits in the kitchen. Tell them to prepare a welcome feast. And, Octavian—”

“You’re letting these intruders into the camp?” A tall guy with stringy blond hair elbowed his way forward. “Reyna, the security risks—”

“We’re not taking them to the camp, Octavian.” Reyna flashed him a stern look. “We’ll eat here, in the forum.”

“Oh, much better,” Octavian grumbled. “You want us to relax in the shadow of their warship.”

“These are our guests.” Reyna clipped off every word. “We will welcome them, and we will talk to them. As augur, you should burn an offering to thank the gods for bringing Jason back to us safely.”

“Good idea,” Percy put in. “Go burn your bears, Octavian.”

Reyna looked like she was trying not to smile. “You have my orders. Go.”

The officers dispersed. Octavian shot Percy a look of absolute loathing. Then he gave Annabeth a suspicious once-over and stalked away.

Annabeth’s blood boiled at the sight of Octavian. How did Percy stand him? After everything Octavian had done, he didn’t deserve to stay at Camp Jupiter.

Percy slipped his hand into Annabeth’s. He squeezed it reassuringly. “Hey, don’t think about him,” he said quietly. “I tried to warn Apollo this time. Hopefully… hopefully he listened.” But he didn’t sound too sure and given Apollo’s track record, Annabeth wasn’t going to depend on Apollo turning down praise from anyone—even Octavian.

Annabeth felt as if someone had draped a cold washcloth across her neck. She heard that whispering eidolon laughter again.

She looked up at the  _ Argo II _ . Its massive bronze hull glittered in the sunlight. Part of her wanted to kidnap Percy, Frank, Hazel, Magnus, and Alex right now, climb on board, and get out of here while they still could. She couldn’t shake the feeling that despite all their knowledge, something was about to go terribly wrong. And there was no way she would ever risk losing Percy again.

“We’ll be fine,” she said, trying to believe it.

“Excellent,” Reyna said. She turned to Jason, and Annabeth thought there was a hungry sort of gleam in her eyes. “Let’s talk, and we can have a proper reunion.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth and Magnus are reunited now too!


	3. Whatever You Do, Do Not Get On That Boat (Annabeth III)

ANNABETH WISHED SHE HAD AN APPETITE, because the Romans knew how to eat.

Sets of couches and low tables were carted into the forum until it resembled a furniture showroom. Romans lounged in groups of ten or twenty, talking and laughing while wind spirits—aurae—swirled overhead, bringing an endless assortment of pizzas, sandwiches, chips, cold drinks, and fresh-baked cookies. Drifting through the crowd were purple ghosts—Lares—in togas and legionnaire armor.

Around the edges of the feast, satyrs (no, fauns, Annabeth thought) trotted from table to table, panhandling for food and spare change. In the nearby fields, the war elephant frolicked with Mrs. O’Leary, and children played tag around the statues of Terminus that lined the city limits.

The whole scene was so familiar yet so completely alien that it gave Annabeth vertigo. Now she was just waiting for the hatchet to drop.

Reyna and a few of her officers (including Octavian, freshly back from burning a teddy bear for the gods) sat with Annabeth and her crew. Percy joined them with Frank and Hazel.

“Good to be back, yeah?” Percy whispered.

Annabeth smiled. “So good. I missed it more than I thought. This time let’s make it stick.”

“And I’ll have no problem with my SATs,” Percy grinned. “Do you think the questions will all be the same?”

Annabeth elbowed him. “No way, Percy!”

They stopped talking as Reyna called a toast to friendship.

After introductions all around, the Romans and Annabeth’s crew began exchanging stories. Jason explained how he’d arrived at Camp Half-Blood without his memory, and how he’d gone on a quest with Piper and Leo to rescue the goddess Hera (or Juno, take your pick—she was equally annoying in Greek or Roman) from imprisonment at the Wolf House in northern California.

“Impossible!” Octavian broke in. “That’s our most sacred place. If the giants had imprisoned a goddess there—”

“They would’ve destroyed her,” Piper said. “And blamed it on the Greeks, and started a war between the camps. Now, be quiet and let Jason finish.”

Octavian opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Annabeth really loved Piper’s charmspeak.

“So,” Jason continued, “that’s how we found out about the earth goddess Gaea. She’s still half asleep, but she’s the one freeing the monsters from Tartarus and raising the giants. Porphyrion, the big leader dude we fought at the Wolf House: he said he was retreating to the ancient lands—Greece itself. He plans on awakening Gaea and destroying the gods by… what did he call it? Pulling up their roots.”

Percy nodded thoughtfully. “Gaea’s been busy over here, too. We had our own encounter with Queen Dirt Face.”

Percy recounted his side of the story. He talked about waking up at the Wolf House with no memories except for one name—Annabeth.

Annabeth looked down with a red face. “Percy…”

“And I thought Magnus was the romantic,” Alex said. “All those random love declarations… then Percy has to go and top that.”

Percy told them how he’d traveled to Alaska with Frank and Hazel—how they’d defeated the giant Alcyoneus, freed the death god Thanatos, and returned with the lost golden eagle standard of the Roman camp to repel an attack by the giants’ army.

When Percy had finished, Jason whistled appreciatively. “No wonder they made you praetor.”

Octavian snorted. “Which means we now have three praetors! The rules clearly state we can only have two!”

“On the bright side,” Percy said, “both Jason and I outrank you, Octavian. So we can both tell you to shut up.”

Octavian turned as purple as a Roman T-shirt. Jason gave Percy a fist bump.

Even Reyna managed a smile, though her eyes were stormy.

“We’ll have to figure out the extra praetor problem later,” she said. “Right now we have more serious issues to deal with.”

“I’ll step aside for Jason,” Percy said easily. “It’s no biggie.”

“No biggie?” Octavian choked. “The praetorship of Rome is no biggie?”

Percy ignored him and turned to Jason. “You’re Thalia’s brother, right? Wow. You guys look nothing alike.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Jason said. “Anyway, thanks for helping my camp while I was gone. You did an awesome job.”

“Back at you,” Percy said.

Annabeth kicked his shin. She hated to interrupt the two friends, but Reyna was right: they had serious things to discuss. “We should talk about the Great Prophecy. It sounds like the Romans are aware of it too?”

Reyna nodded. “We call it the Prophecy of Seven. Octavian, you have it committed to memory?”

“Of course,” he said. “But, Reyna—”

“Recite it, please. In English, not Latin.”

Octavian sighed. “ _ Seven half-bloods shall answer the call / To storm or fire the world must fall / Delivered for wisdom on Rome’s wings— _ ”

“ _ Ones prepared with knowledge of all things / An oath to keep with a final breath _ ,” Annabeth continued. “ _ And foes bear arms to the Doors of Death _ .”

Everyone stared at her—except for Leo, who had constructed a pinwheel out of aluminum foil taco wrappers and was sticking it into passing wind spirits.

Annabeth wasn’t sure why she had blurted out the lines of the prophecy. She’d just felt compelled. Kind of like how Jason must have felt when he recited the last lines at the campfire in December.

Frank sat forward, staring at her in fascination, as if she’d grown a third eye. “Is it true you’re a child of Min—I mean, Athena?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

Octavian scoffed. “If you’re truly a child of the wisdom goddess—”

“Enough,” Reyna snapped. “Annabeth is what she says. She’s here in peace. Besides…” She gave Annabeth a look of grudging respect. “Percy has spoken highly of you.”

Annabeth gave Reyna a small smile. “Thanks,” she said. “At any rate, some of the prophecy is becoming clear.  _ Rome’s wings _ , that’s clearly referring to the Romans.  _ Foes bear arms to the Doors of Death _ … that means Romans and Greeks. We have to combine forces to find those doors.”

Hazel picked up something next to her plate. It looked like a large ruby which Hazel slipped into the pocket of her denim shirt.

“My brother, Nico, went looking for the doors,” she said.

Annabeth inhaled sharply. “Have you heard from him?” she asked. “Did he find them?”

Hazel frowned. “He disappeared.” She moistened her lips. “I’m afraid… I’m not sure, but I think something’s happened to him.”

Annabeth felt a giant weight sinking in her stomach. Nico  _ was  _ missing. And it was entirely her fault. She shouldn’t have let him leave Camp Half-Blood. She shouldn’t have  _ asked _ him to help her.

“We’ll look for him,” Percy promised. “We have to find the Doors of Death anyway. Thanatos told us we’d find both answers in Rome—like, the original Rome. That’s on the way to Greece.” Percy took a bite of his burger. “Now that Death is free, monsters will disintegrate and return to Tartarus again like they used to. But as long as the Doors of Death are open, they’ll just keep coming back.”

Piper twisted the feather in her hair. “Like water leaking through a dam,” she suggested.

“Yeah.” Percy smiled. “We’ve got a dam hole.”

Magnus choked on his—was that falafel? Where did he keep finding that stuff?

Alex thumped him on the back. “Dude, what?”

“What?” Piper asked.

Annabeth sighed fondly. “On one of our quests—”

“No, no, no,” Percy protested. “You can’t just tell people about the joke. Then it’s not funny.”

Annabeth rolled her eyes.

“The point is,” Percy said, “we’ll have to find the doors and close them before we can head to Greece. It’s the only way we’ll stand a chance of defeating the giants and making sure they stay defeated.”

Reyna plucked an apple from a passing fruit tray. She turned it in her fingers, studying the dark red surface. “You propose an expedition to Greece in your warship. You do realize that the ancient lands—and the Mare Nostrum—are dangerous?”

“Mary who?” Leo asked.

“Mare Nostrum,” Jason explained. “Our Sea. It’s what the Ancient Romans called the Mediterranean.”

Reyna nodded. “The territory that was once the Roman Empire is not only the birthplace of the gods. It’s also the ancestral home of the monsters, Titans and giants… and worse things. As dangerous as travel is for demigods here in America, there it would be ten times worse.” She looked uneasy. “Traveling in the Mediterranean is a different level of danger altogether. It’s been off limits to Roman demigods for centuries. No hero in his right mind would go there.”

“Then we’re good!” Leo grinned over the top of his pinwheel. “Because we’re all crazy, right? Besides, the  _ Argo II  _ is a top-of-the-line warship. She’ll get us through.”

“We’ll have to hurry,” Jason added. “I don’t know exactly what the giants are planning, but Gaea is growing more conscious all the time. She’s invading dreams, appearing in weird places, summoning more and more powerful monsters. We have to stop the giants before they can wake her up fully.”

Annabeth shuddered. She’d had her own share of nightmares lately.

“ _ Seven half-bloods must answer the call _ ,” she said. “It needs to be a mix from both our camps. Jason, Piper, Leo, and me. That’s four.”

“And me,” Percy said. “Along with Hazel and Frank. That’s seven.”

“What?” Octavian shot to his feet. “We’re just supposed to accept that? Without a vote in the senate? Without a proper debate? Without—”

“Percy!” Tyson the Cyclops bounded toward them with Mrs. O’Leary at his heels. On the hellhound’s back sat the skinniest harpy Annabeth had ever seen—a sickly-looking girl with stringy red hair, a sackcloth dress, and red-feathered wings.

Annabeth’s heart plummeted when she saw Ella. She had forgotten this was the moment she received her prophecy.

Tyson stopped by their couch and wrung his meaty hands. His big brown eye was full of concern.

“Ella is scared,” he said.

“N-n-no more boats,” the harpy muttered to herself, picking furiously at her feathers. “ _Titanic, Lusitania, Pax_ … boats are not for harpies.”

Leo squinted. He looked at Hazel, who was seated next to him. “Did that chicken girl just compare my ship to the _Titanic_?”

“She’s not a chicken.” Hazel averted her eyes, as if Leo made her nervous. “Ella’s a harpy. She’s just a little… high-strung.”

“Ella is pretty,” Tyson said. “And scared. We need to take her away, but she will not go on the ship.”

“No ships,” Ella repeated. She looked straight at Annabeth. “Bad luck. There she is.  _ Wisdom’s daughter walks alone _ —”

“Ella!” Frank stood suddenly. “Maybe it’s not the best time—”

“ _ The Mark of Athena burns through Rome _ ,” Ella continued, cupping her hands over her ears and raising her voice. “ _ Twins snuff out the angel’s breath / Who holds the key to endless death / Giants’ bane stands gold and pale / Won through pain from a woven jail. _ ”

The effect was like someone dropping a flash grenade on the table. Everyone stared at the harpy.

No one spoke. Annabeth’s heart was pounding.  _ The Mark of Athena… _ She resisted the urge to check her pocket, but she could feel the silver coin growing warmer—the cursed gift from her mother.

_ Follow the Mark of Athena. Avenge me. _

Around them, the sounds of the feast continued, but muted and distant, as if their little cluster of couches had slipped into a quieter dimension.

Percy was the first to recover. He stood and took Tyson’s arm.

“I know!” he said with feigned enthusiasm. “How about you take Ella to get some fresh air? You and Mrs. O’Leary—”

“Hold on.” Octavian gripped one of his teddy bears, strangling it with shaking hands. His eyes fixed on Ella. “What was that she said? It sounded like—”

“Ella reads a lot,” Frank blurted out. “We found her at a library.”

“Yes!” Hazel said. “Probably just something she read in a book.”

“Books,” Ella muttered helpfully. “Ella likes books.”

Now that she’d said her piece, the harpy seemed more relaxed. She sat cross-legged on Mrs. O’Leary’s back, preening her wings.

“That was a prophecy,” Octavian insisted. “It sounded like a prophecy.”

No one answered.

Annabeth forced a laugh. “Really, Octavian? Maybe harpies are different here, on the Roman side. Ours have just enough intelligence to clean cabins and cook lunches. Do yours usually foretell the future? Do you consult them for your auguries?”

Her words had the intended effect. The Roman officers laughed nervously. Some sized up Ella, then looked at Octavian and snorted. The idea of a chicken lady issuing prophecies was apparently just as ridiculous to Romans as it was to Greeks.

“I, uh…” Octavian dropped his teddy bear. “No, but—”

“She’s just spouting lines from some book,” Annabeth said, “like Hazel suggested. Besides, we already have a real prophecy to worry about.” She turned to Tyson. “Percy’s right. Why don’t you take Ella and Mrs. O’Leary and shadow-travel somewhere for a while. Is Ella okay with that?”

“‘Large dogs are good,’” Ella said. “Old Yeller, 1957, screenplay by Fred Gipson and William Tunberg.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure how to take that answer, but Percy smiled like the problem was solved.

“Great!” Percy said. “We’ll Iris-message you guys when we’re done and catch up with you later.”

The Romans looked at Reyna, waiting for her ruling. Annabeth held her breath.

Reyna had an excellent poker face. She studied Ella, but Annabeth couldn’t guess what she was thinking.

“Fine,” the praetor said at last. “Go.”

“Yay!” Tyson went around the couches and gave everyone a big hug—even Octavian, who didn’t look happy about it. Then he climbed on Mrs. O’Leary’s back with Ella, and the hellhound bounded out of the forum. They dove straight into a shadow on the Senate House wall and disappeared.

“Well.” Reyna set down her uneaten apple. “Octavian is right about one thing. We must gain the senate’s approval before we let any of our legionnaires go on a quest—especially one as dangerous as you’re suggesting.”

“This whole thing smells of treachery,” Octavian grumbled. “That trireme is not a ship of peace!”

“Come aboard, man,” Leo offered. “I’ll give you a tour. You can steer the boat, and if you’re really good I’ll give you a little paper captain’s hat to wear.”

Octavian’s nostrils flared. “How dare you—”

“No!” Annabeth said.

Reyna, Octavian, Jason, Piper, Leo, Frank, and Hazel looked at her strangely. They didn’t seem to know what to make of her outburst.

“No,” Annabeth repeated. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I… I have a bad feeling about that. Please, let’s just… everyone stay on the ground until it’s time to leave. Please.”

Reyna considered her, then nodded slowly. “Agreed. We’ll convene a senate meeting in one hour.”

“But...” Octavian stopped. Apparently he could tell from Reyna’s expression that further arguing would not be good for his health. “Fine.”

Leo scowled at the table. Annabeth pretended not to notice the cruel light in his eyes.

The wind spirits began clearing the plates.

“Uh, Reyna,” Jason said, “if you don’t mind, I’d like to show Piper and Leo around before the senate meeting. They've never seen New Rome.”

“Actually, that’s a great idea,” Annabeth said loudly. “Why don’t we all go on a tour of New Rome and get to know each other since we’ll be spending a lot of quality time together.”

Jason looked slightly confused. Probably as to why Annabeth was really pushing this.

“The Greek and Roman drama is what I live for,” Annabeth heard Alex mutter to Magnus. “It’s always like a soap opera here.”

“That sounds great,” Percy said force-enthusiastically.

“I’d like a few words with Annabeth,” Reyna said. “Alone. If you don’t mind, my fellow praetor. I’m sure we can catch up with your  _ tour _ before the meeting.” Her tone made it clear she wasn’t really asking permission.

“That’s fine,” Annabeth said. She gave Percy a look.  _ Keep your eyes on Leo _ .

Percy nodded.

“Come, daughter of Athena.” Reyna rose from her couch. “Walk with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahah! Seems Annabeth has found a way to avoid the eidolons! For now.


	4. Alex and Magnus are Probably Not Going Back to Camp Now (Annabeth IV)

EVEN THOUGH SHE’D SEEN IT ALL BEFORE, Annabeth couldn’t help admiring the terraced gardens, the fountains and temples, the winding cobblestone streets and gleaming white villas.

After the Titan War last summer, she’d gotten her dream job of redesigning the palaces of Mount Olympus. She’d drawn inspiration from the original project as well as what she’d seen in New Rome, but it wasn’t the same as the city. Nor was it near completion since the shut down had barred her from Olympus. Whoever designed New Rome had clearly poured a lot of time and love into the project.

“We have the best architects and builders in the world,” Reyna said, as if reading her thoughts. “Rome always did, in the ancient times. Many demigods stay on to live here after their time in the legion. They go to our university. They settle down to raise families. Percy seemed interested in this fact.”

Annabeth smiled distantly. “That’s the dream I think for Greek demigods. We don’t have a safe haven like this. Once we’re adults… we leave Camp and try our best to survive in the world.”

“I believe you’d survive,” Reyna said. “You’re a warrior. You’ve got fire in your eyes.”

“Athena’s a war goddess,” Annabeth said.

Reyna nodded. “Your mother. My mother is Bellona. Also a war goddess.” Her eyes sparkled. “Though, I believe you must know that. Athena is also the goddess of wisdom, is she not? You read up on us.”

Annabeth shrugged. “Guilty.”

Reyna turned and whistled like she was hailing a cab. A moment later, two metal dogs raced toward them—automaton greyhounds, one silver and one gold. They brushed against Reyna’s legs and regarded Annabeth with glistening ruby eyes.

“My pets,” Reyna explained. “Aurum and Argentum. You don’t mind if they walk with us?”

“Not a problem.”

Reyna led her to an outdoor café, where the waiter clearly knew her. He smiled and handed her a to-go cup, then offered one to Annabeth.

“Would you like some?” Reyna asked. “They make wonderful hot chocolate. Not really a Roman drink—”

“But chocolate is universal,” Annabeth said.

“Exactly.”

It was a warm June afternoon, but Annabeth accepted the cup with thanks. The two of them walked on, Reyna’s gold and silver dogs roaming nearby.

“In our camp,” Reyna said, “Athena is Minerva. If you have read up, you must be familiar with how her Roman form is different.”

“She’s not a goddess of war,” Annabeth said. “And she’s a maiden goddess. Though, Athena’s children…” she grimaced. “Well, I don’t like to talk about how I was born, but it’s  _ not _ the normal way.” Her face flushed as it always did when she talked about her birth.

“Yes,” Reyna said. “I understand that you Greeks don’t see things the same way,” she continued. “But Romans take vows of maidenhood very seriously. The Vestal Virgins, for instance… if they broke their vows and fell in love with anyone, they would be buried alive. So the idea that a maiden goddess would have children—”

“Got it,” Annabeth said with a tight smile. “I’m not supposed to exist. And even if your camp had children of Minerva—”

“They wouldn’t be like you,” Reyna said. “They might be craftsmen, artists, maybe advisers, but not warriors. Not leaders of dangerous quests.”

“Well, we couldn’t put Jason or Percy in charge,” Annabeth snorted. “I’ve seen enough Zeus and Poseidon power struggles between Jason’s sister Thalia and Percy to know that  _ that _ combination would not be good.” She smiled fondly. “They just need someone to bring their ideas together. A go-between.”

“Well, I’m glad that’s you,” Reyna said. “There’s more.” She snapped her fingers, and her golden dog, Aurum, trotted over. The praetor stroked his ears. “The harpy Ella… it was a prophecy she spoke. We both know that, don’t we?”

“Yes,” Annabeth admitted. “I think it was.”

A few yards away, the silver dog barked. A group of children spilled out of a nearby alleyway and gathered around Argentum, petting the dog and laughing, unfazed by its razor-sharp teeth.

“We should move on,” Reyna said.

They wound their way up the hill. The greyhounds followed, leaving the children behind.

“I wanted to apologize,” Annabeth said.

Reyna looked at her curiously. “What for?”

“You were one of Circe’s servants,” Annabeth said. “You combed my hair. When Percy and I escaped… I don’t think the pirates were very happy with you.”

“Ah.” Reyna gave her a dry smile. “Very good. Percy didn’t remember me. Though, he did have amnesia. Yes, that was me. You mostly spoke with my older sister Hylla, who is now queen of the Amazons. I remember you well. You were brave. I’d never seen anyone refuse Circe’s hospitality, much less outwit her. It’s no wonder Percy cares for you.”

Her voice was wistful. Annabeth thought it might be safer not to respond.

They reached the top of the hill, where a terrace overlooked the entire valley.

“This is my favorite spot,” Reyna said. “The Garden of Bacchus.”

Grapevine trellises made a canopy overhead. Bees buzzed through honeysuckle and jasmine, which filled the afternoon air with a dizzying mix of perfumes. In the middle of the terrace stood a statue of Bacchus in a sort of ballet position, wearing nothing but a loincloth, his cheeks puffed out and lips pursed, spouting water into a fountain.

Despite her worries, Annabeth almost laughed. She knew the god in his Greek form, Dionysus—or Mr. D, as they called him back at Camp Half-Blood. Seeing their cranky old camp director immortalized in stone, wearing a diaper and spewing water from his mouth, made her feel a little better.

Reyna stopped at the edge of the terrace. The view was worth the climb. The whole city spread out below them like a 3-D mosaic. To the south, beyond the lake, a cluster of temples perched on a hill. To the north, an aqueduct marched toward the Berkeley Hills. Work crews were repairing a broken section, probably damaged in the recent battle.

“I wanted to hear it from you,” Reyna said.

Annabeth turned. “Hear what from me?”

“The truth,” Reyna said. “Convince me that I’m not making a mistake by trusting you. Tell me about yourself. Tell me about Camp Half-Blood. Your friend Piper has sorcery in her words. I spent enough time with Circe to know charmspeak when I hear it. I can’t trust what she says. And Jason… well, he has changed. He seems distant, no longer quite Roman.”

The hurt in her voice was as sharp as broken glass. It stung Annabeth because she knew the truth in Reyna’s words. Jason  _ had _ changed. His scales were teetering towards being more Greek than Roman. In the end, he would  _ choose _ Greek and if history played out the same, Jason Grace would die a Greek demigod in California, Roman territory.

Annabeth told Reyna about her own life. She talked about her dad and stepmom and her two stepbrothers in San Francisco, and how she had felt like an outsider in her own family. She talked about how she had run away when she was only seven, finding her friends Luke and Thalia and making her way to Camp Half-Blood on Long Island. She described the camp and her years growing up there. She talked about meeting Percy and the adventures they’d had together.

Reyna was a good listener.

When Annabeth was done talking, Reyna gazed over New Rome. Her metal greyhounds sniffed around the garden, snapping at bees in the honeysuckle. Finally Reyna pointed to the cluster of temples on the distant hill.

“The small red building,” she said, “there on the northern side? That’s the temple of my mother, Bellona.” Reyna turned toward Annabeth. “Unlike your mother, Bellona has no Greek equivalent. She is fully, truly Roman. She’s the goddess of protecting the homeland.”

Annabeth said nothing. Down below, the hull of the  _ Argo II _ gleamed as it floated over the forum, like some massive bronze party balloon.

“When the Romans go to war,” Reyna continued, “we first visit the Temple of Bellona. Inside is a symbolic patch of ground that represents enemy soil. We throw a spear into that ground, indicating that we are now at war. You see, Romans have always believed that offense is the best defense. In ancient times, whenever our ancestors felt threatened by their neighbors, they would invade to protect themselves.”

“They conquered everyone around them,” Annabeth said. “Carthage, the Gauls—”

“And the Greeks.” Reyna let that comment hang. “My point, Annabeth, is that it isn’t Rome’s nature to cooperate with other powers. Every time Greek and Roman demigods have met, we’ve fought. Conflicts between our two sides have started some of the most horrible wars in human history—especially civil wars.”

“It doesn’t have to be that way,” Annabeth said. “We’ve got to work together, or Gaea will destroy us both.”

“I agree,” Reyna said. “But is cooperation possible? What if Juno’s plan is flawed? Even goddesses can make mistakes.”

“I am probably Hera’s number one hater,” Annabeth admitted. “But I don’t think she was wrong to think we could work together. I don’t trust her, but I do trust my friends. This isn’t a trick, Reyna. We can work together.”

Reyna finished her cup of chocolate. She set the cup on the terrace railing and gazed over the valley as if imagining battle lines. “I believe you mean it,” she said. “But if you go to the ancient lands, especially Rome itself, there is something you should know about your mother.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“When I lived on Circe’s island,” Reyna said, “we had many visitors. Once, perhaps a year before you and Percy arrived, a young man washed ashore. He was half mad from thirst and heat. He’d been drifting at sea for days. His words didn’t make much sense, but he said he was a son of Athena.”

Reyna paused as if waiting for a reaction. Annabeth had no idea who the boy might have been. One of her brothers who had left Camp? One of her brothers who never made it to Camp? She’d have to ask Chiron about this boy when she got back to Camp.

“What happened to this demigod?” she asked.

Reyna waved her hand as if the question was trivial. “Circe turned him into a guinea pig, of course. He made quite a crazy little rodent. But before that, he kept raving about his failed quest. He claimed that he’d gone to Rome, following the Mark of Athena.”

Annabeth inhaled sharply.

“Yes,” Reyna said, seeing her discomfort. “He kept muttering about wisdom’s child, the Mark of Athena, and the giants’ bane standing pale and gold. The same lines Ella was just reciting. Have you heard these lines before?”

“I… yes,” Annabeth said. She couldn’t lie. Not when Reyna’s dogs were around. “Did this demigod—did he explain his quest?”

Reyna shook her head. “At the time, I had no idea what he was talking about. Much later, when I became praetor of Camp Jupiter, I began to suspect.”

“Suspect what?”

“There is an old legend that the praetors of Camp Jupiter have passed down through the centuries. If it’s true, it may explain why our two groups of demigods have never been able to work together. It may be the cause of our animosity. Until this old score is finally settled, so the legend goes, Romans and Greeks will never be at peace. And the legend centers on Athena—”

A shrill sound pierced the air. Light flashed in the corner of Annabeth’s eye.

She turned in time to see an explosion blast a new crater in the forum. A burning couch tumbled through the air. Demigods scattered in panic.

“No!” Annabeth gasped. “No! This… this shouldn’t be happening! I don’t understand—” She fell silent.

Everyone was on the ground. Everyone except Coach Hedge. Why had she assumed he would be immune to the eidolons?

Reyna’s eyes seethed with rage. “You’ve betrayed our trust.”

“What? No!”

As soon as she said it, the  _ Argo II _ launched a second volley. Its port ballista fired a massive spear wreathed in Greek fire, which sailed straight through the broken dome of the Senate House and exploded inside, lighting up the building like a jack-o’-lantern. If anyone had been in there…

“Reyna, I swear,” Annabeth said. “It’s not us. We would never do this. I… I thought if I kept everyone on the ground we could prevent something like this, but… I don’t know, they must have figured out another way.”

“They?” Reyna asked.

“Gaea’s minions,” Annabeth said. She looked helplessly at the praetor. “I promise you we did not intend to do this.”

The metal dogs ran to their mistress’s side. They snarled at Annabeth but paced uncertainly, as if reluctant to attack.

“You’re telling the truth,” Reyna judged. “Although, it sounds like you know this could happen. You should have voiced this sooner.” Her eyes blazed in anger. “Now someone must pay.”

Down in the forum, chaos was spreading. Crowds were pushing and shoving. Fistfights were breaking out.

“Bloodshed,” Reyna said.

“We have to stop it!”

As they ran down the hill, Annabeth hoped this wasn’t the last time Reyna and she ever acted in agreement.

* * *

If weapons had been allowed in the city, Annabeth’s friends would have already been dead. The Roman demigods in the forum had coalesced into an angry mob. Some threw plates, food, and rocks at the  _ Argo II _ , which was pointless, as most of the stuff fell back into the crowd.

Several dozen Romans had surrounded Piper and Jason, who were trying to calm them without much luck. Piper’s charmspeak was useless against so many screaming, angry demigods.

Jason’s forehead was bleeding. His purple cloak had been ripped to shreds. He kept pleading, “I’m on your side!” but his orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt didn’t help matters—nor did the warship overhead, firing flaming spears into New Rome. One landed nearby and blasted a toga shop to rubble.

“Pluto’s pauldrons,” Reyna cursed. “Look.”

Armed legionnaires were hurrying toward the forum. Two artillery crews had set up catapults just outside the Pomerian Line and were preparing to fire at the  _ Argo II _ .

“That’ll just make things worse,” Annabeth said.

“I hate my job,” Reyna growled. She rushed off toward the legionnaires, her dogs at her side.

_ Percy, _ Annabeth thought, scanning the forum desperately.  _ Where are you? _

Two Romans tried to grab her. She ducked past them, plunging into the crowd. As if the angry Romans, burning couches, and exploding buildings weren’t confusing enough, hundreds of purple ghosts drifted through the forum, passing straight through the demigods’ bodies and wailing incoherently. The fauns had also taken advantage of the chaos. They swarmed the dining tables, grabbing food, plates, and cups. One trotted by Annabeth with his arms full of tacos and an entire pineapple between his teeth.

A statue of Terminus exploded into being, right in front of Annabeth. He yelled at her in Latin, no doubt calling her a liar and a rule breaker; but she pushed the statue over and kept running.

Finally she spotted Percy. He and his friends, Hazel and Frank, were standing in the middle of a fountain as Percy repelled the angry Romans with blasts of water. Percy’s toga was in tatters, but he looked unhurt. Magnus was with them doing his best to fend off Romans with a clearly borrowed Imperial gold sword.

Annabeth called to them as another explosion rocked the forum. This time the flash of light was directly overhead. One of the Roman catapults had fired, and the  _ Argo II _ groaned and tilted sideways, flames bubbling over its bronze-plated hull.

Over by the fountain, Percy blasted the Roman mob with more water. Annabeth ran toward him, ducking a Roman fist and a flying plate of sandwiches.

“What happened?” she called.

“Leo ditched us!” Percy yelled. He blasted more water. “I looked for him, but he vanished.”

“Alex took him up to the ship!” Magnus shouted. “I don’t know what happened. One minute she was fine, the next she was snapping at me and running off with Leo towards the ship.”

Annabeth cursed. “I should have known something like this would happen.”

The  _ Argo II _ returned fire. Legionnaires in the field scattered as one of their catapults was blasted to splinters.

“Romans,” Octavian screamed, “kill the invaders!”

Annabeth growled in frustration. There was no time for anyone to figure out the truth. The crew from Camp Half-Blood was outnumbered a hundred to one, and they’d never be able to convince the Romans what really happened before they were overrun and killed.

“We have to leave,” she told Percy. “Now.”

He nodded grimly. “Hazel, Frank, you’ve got to make a choice. Are you coming?”

Hazel looked terrified, but she donned her cavalry helmet. “Of course we are. But you’ll never make it to the ship unless we buy you some time.”

“How?” Annabeth asked.

Hazel whistled. Instantly a blur of beige shot across the forum. A majestic horse materialized next to the fountain. He reared, whinnying and scattering the mob. Hazel climbed on his back like she’d been born to ride. Strapped to the horse’s saddle was a Roman cavalry sword.

Hazel unsheathed her golden blade. “Send me an Iris-message when you’re safely away, and we’ll rendezvous,” she said. “Arion, ride!”

The horse zipped through the crowd with incredible speed, pushing back Romans and causing mass panic.

Halfway across the forum, Annabeth heard Jason shouting. “Romans!” he cried. “Please!”

He and Piper were being pelted with plates and stones. Jason tried to shield Piper, but a brick caught him above the eye. He crumpled, and the crowd surged forward.

“Get back!” Piper screamed. Her charmspeak rolled over the mob, making them hesitate, but the effect wouldn’t last.

“Frank,” Percy said, “it’s up to you. Can you help them?”

Frank swallowed nervously. “Oh, gods,” he murmured. “Okay, sure. Just get up the ropes. Now.”

“Magnus?” Annabeth asked her cousin.

He swallowed. “I’m coming with you. Of course.”

Magnus, Percy, and Annabeth lunged for the ladder. They began to climb as armed legionnaires flooded into the forum. Arrows whistled past Annabeth’s head. An explosion almost knocked her off the ladder. Halfway up, she heard a roar below and glanced down.

Romans screamed and scattered as a full-sized dragon charged through the forum—a beast even scarier than the bronze dragon figurehead on the  _ Argo II _ . It had rough gray skin like a Komodo lizard’s and leathery bat wings. Arrows and rocks bounced harmlessly off its hide as it lumbered toward Piper and Jason, grabbed them with its front claws, and vaulted into the air.

“Yeah, Frank!” Percy cheered.

“Keep climbing!” Annabeth yelled.

Without the dragon and Hazel’s horse to distract the archers, they never would have made it up the ladder; but finally they climbed past a row of broken aerial oars and onto the deck. The rigging was on fire. The foresail was ripped down the middle, and the ship listed badly to starboard.

There was no sign of Coach Hedge, but Leo stood amidships, calmly reloading the ballista. Alex stood beside him as if acting as a guard.

Annabeth’s gut twisted with horror.

“Leo! Alex!” she screamed. “What are you doing?”

“Destroy them…” Leo faced Annabeth. His eyes were glazed. His movements were like a robot’s. “Destroy them all.”

“Destroy them all,” Alex repeated.

Leo turned back to the ballista, while Alex brought out her garrotte. Percy lunged at Leo the same time Magnus ran at Alex. Leo’s head hit the deck hard as Percy tackled him. Magnus’s Imperial gold sword snapped in half where Alex’s garotte wire wrapped around it. Luckily, the action pulled the garrotte out of her hands, but unluckily, they were nowhere near close to knocking Alex out.

Alex flew at Magnus. Literally. She transformed into a bird with a very sharp, very pointy beak. A jet of water hit bird Alex, sending her flying towards the cabin wall. She turned into a human just before hitting the wall with a sickening sound.

“Alex!” Magnus shouted, rushing over.

Frank the gray dragon soared into view. He circled the ship once and landed at the bow, depositing Jason and Piper, who both collapsed.

“Go!” Percy yelled. “Get us out of here!”

Annabeth ran for the helm. She made the mistake of glancing over the rail and saw armed legionnaires closing ranks in the forum, preparing flaming arrows. Hazel spurred Arion, and they raced out of the city with a mob chasing after them. More catapults were being wheeled into range. All along the Pomerian Line, the statues of Terminus were glowing purple, as if building up energy for some kind of attack.

Annabeth looked over the controls. She’d forced Leo to teach her how to use them, but her panic overrode that information. Her mind was too busy trying to figure out what went wrong to remember how to steer the ship.

The one command she didn’t need to know how to execute was up.

She grabbed the aviation throttle and yanked it straight back. The ship groaned. The bow tilted up at a horrifying angle. The mooring lines snapped, and the  _ Argo II _ shot into the clouds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. The eidolons prevailed. What a shame. But now Magnus and Alex will be with the Seven so we'll see where that goes.


	5. Frank Thinks I'm Sammy and It's Kinda Freaky (Leo V)

WHEN LEO CAME TOO, he wished he could take another knock to the head. He wanted to invent a time machine, go back two hours, and undo what had happened.

“What the Hel just happened?” Alex demanded from where she was propped up next to Leo.

“You two blew up New Rome, that’s what!” the new kid, Frank, said furiously. “Why would you do that? I mean, you  _ just _ fought with us against the giants!” He frowned. “You… you tricked Percy, didn’t you? Hazel and I weren’t there when he found you and then there was that thing with Hypnos and are you even demigods?”

“Hey!” Annabeth said, giving Frank a pointed look. “Knock it off. Yelling at each other isn’t going to solve anything.” She took a deep breath. “Leo. Can you tell me what happened? What do you remember?”

Leo slumped against the mast. His head still throbbed from hitting the deck. All around him, his beautiful new ship was in shambles. The aft crossbows were piles of kindling. The foresail was tattered. The satellite array that powered the onboard Internet and TV was blown to bits, which had really made Coach Hedge mad. Their bronze dragon figurehead, Festus, was coughing up smoke like he had a hairball, and Leo could tell from the groaning sounds on the port side that some of the aerial oars had been knocked out of alignment or broken off completely, which explained why the ship was listing and shuddering as it flew, the engine wheezing like an asthmatic steam train.

He choked back a sob. “I don’t know. It’s fuzzy.”

Too many people were looking at him: Annabeth (Leo hated to make her angry; that girl scared him), Coach Hedge with his furry goat legs, his orange polo shirt, and his baseball bat (did he have to carry that everywhere?), and Frank.

Leo wasn’t sure what to make of Frank. He looked like a baby sumo wrestler, though Leo wasn’t stupid enough to say that aloud. Leo’s memory was hazy, but while he’d been half conscious, he was pretty sure he’d seen a dragon land on the ship—a dragon that had turned into Frank.

“Just try?” Annabeth asked.

“I…” Leo felt like he was trying to swallow a marble. “I remember, but it’s like I was watching myself do things. I couldn’t control it.”

Coach Hedge tapped his bat against the deck. In his gym clothes, with his cap pulled over his horns, he looked just like he used to at the Wilderness School, where he’d spent a year undercover as Jason, Piper, and Leo’s P.E. teacher. The way the old satyr was glowering, Leo almost wondered if the coach was going to order him to do push-ups.

“Look, kid,” Hedge said, “you blew up some stuff. You attacked some Romans. Awesome! Excellent! But did you have to knock out the satellite channels? I was right in the middle of watching a cage match.”

“Coach,” Annabeth said, “why don’t you make sure all the fires are out?”

“But I already did that.”

“Do it again.”

The satyr trudged off, muttering under his breath. Even Hedge wasn’t crazy enough to defy Annabeth.

She knelt next to Leo. Her gray eyes were as steely as ball bearings. Her blond hair fell loose around her shoulders, but Leo didn’t find that attractive. He had no idea where the stereotype of dumb giggly blondes came from. Ever since he’d met Annabeth, Leo thought of blondes as much too smart and much too dangerous.

“Alex?” she said, turning to look at the green haired girl.

Alex looked miserable. “I don’t understand. I… Leo’s right, it was like watching myself do things, like I was a passenger in my own… my own body.” She swallowed. “I’ve never been out of control of myself before. That  _ shouldn’t have _ happened.” She took a shuddering breath. “Where did Magnus go? Is he here?”

Annabeth’s expression softened. “He’s below in the cabins. I sent him to heal Jason. I can take you to him. We have guest rooms too. I can show you yours.”

_ Oh, gods, _ Leo thought.  _ Please let Jason be okay. _

As soon as they’d gotten on board, Piper had taken Jason below. The cut on his head had looked pretty bad. Leo had known Jason longer than anyone at Camp Half-Blood. They were best friends. If Jason didn’t make it… well, Leo didn’t really want to think about that.

“That would be good,” Alex said.

Annabeth helped Alex stand up. She turned to Frank. “I’ll be back,” she said. “Just stay here with Leo, please.”

Frank nodded.

If it was possible for Leo to feel worse, he did. Annabeth now trusted a Roman demigod she’d known for like, three seconds, more than she trusted Leo.

Once she was gone, Leo and Frank stared at each other. The big dude looked pretty odd in his bedsheet toga, with his gray pullover hoodie and jeans, and a bow and quiver from the ship’s armory slung over his shoulder. Leo remembered the time he had met the Hunters of Artemis—a bunch of cute lithe girls in silvery clothes, all armed with bows. He imagined Frank frolicking along with them.

The idea was so ridiculous, it almost made him feel better.

“So,” Frank said. “Your name isn’t Sammy?”

_ “You are so much like—” _

_ “Sammy?” he guessed. _

_ “You know?” _

_ “I have no idea who Sammy is. But Frank asked me if I was sure that wasn’t my name.” _

Leo blinked. He had no idea where that memory had come from, but he was pretty sure this conversation had happened between him and Hazel. Which was crazy since he’d only met Hazel that day and they hadn’t even spoken much.

“Leo?” Frank asked. “You okay?”

Leo scowled. “What kind of question is that?”

“You zoned out,” Frank said. “I was just—”

“Not that,” Leo snapped. “The Sammy thing.”

“Nothing,” Frank said quickly. “I just—Nothing. About the firing on the camp… There was something off about you and Alex. We should have tried to stop you guys. You both seemed different and we could have done something. Don’t beat yourself up too bad.”

Leo gave Frank a grateful look. He was glad the kid didn’t totally hate him. But that didn’t change what he’d done. He’d gotten Alex to fly him up to the  _ Argo II _ , then walked to a ballista and started firing. Part of him had known it was wrong. He’d asked himself:  _ What the heck am I doing? _ But he’d done it anyway.

Maybe he was going crazy. The stress of all those months working on the  _ Argo II _ might’ve finally made him crack. But he couldn’t think about that. He needed to do something productive. His hands needed to be busy.

“Look,” he said, “I should talk to Festus and get a damage report. You mind…?”

Frank helped him up. “Who is Festus?”

“My friend,” Leo said. “His name isn’t Sammy either, in case you’re wondering. Come on. I’ll introduce you.”

* * *

Fortunately the bronze dragon wasn’t damaged. Well, aside from the fact that last winter he’d lost everything except his head—but Leo didn’t count that.

When they reached the bow of the ship, the figurehead turned a hundred and eighty degrees to look at them. Frank yelped and backed away.

“It’s alive!” he said.

Leo would have laughed if he hadn’t felt so bad. “Yeah. Frank, this is Festus. He used to be a full bronze dragon, but we had an accident.”

“You have a lot of accidents,” Frank noted.

“Well, some of us can’t turn into dragons, so we have to build our own.” Leo arched his eyebrows at Frank. “Anyway, I revived him as a figurehead. He’s kind of the ship’s main interface now. How are things looking, Festus?”

Festus snorted smoke and made a series of squeaking, whirring sounds. Over the last few months, Leo had learned to interpret this machine language. Other demigods could understand Latin and Greek. Leo could speak Creak and Squeak.

“Ugh,” Leo said. “Could be worse, but the hull is compromised in several places. The port aerial oars have to be fixed before we can go full speed again. We’ll need some repair materials: Celestial bronze, tar, lime—”

“What do you need limes for?”

“Dude, lime. Calcium carbonate, used in cement and a bunch of other—Ah, never mind. The point is, this ship isn’t going far unless we can fix it.”

Festus made another click-creak noise that Leo didn’t recognize. It sounded like AY-zuhl.

“Oh… Hazel,” he deciphered. “That’s the girl with the curly hair, right?”

Frank gulped. “Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” Leo said. “According to Festus, her horse is racing along below. She’s following us.”

“We’ve got to land, then,” Frank said.

Leo studied him. “She’s your girlfriend?”

Frank chewed his lip. “Yes.”

“You don’t sound sure.”

“Yes. Yes, definitely. I’m sure.”

Leo raised his hands. “Okay, fine. The problem is we can only manage one landing. The way the hull and the oars are, we won’t be able to lift off again until we repair, so we’ll have to make sure we land somewhere with all the right supplies.”

Frank scratched his head. “Where do you get Celestial bronze? You can’t just stock up at Home Depot.”

“Festus, do a scan.”

“He can scan for magic bronze?” Frank marveled. “Is there anything he can’t do?”

Leo thought:  _ You should’ve seen him when he had a body. _ But he didn’t say that. It was too painful, remembering the way Festus used to be.

Leo peered over the ship’s bow. The Central California valley was passing below. Leo didn’t hold out much hope that they could find what they needed all in one place, but they had to try. Leo also wanted to put as much distance as possible between himself and New Rome. The  _ Argo II _ could cover vast distances pretty quickly, thanks to its magical engine, but Leo figured the Romans had magic travel methods of their own.

Behind him, the stairs creaked. Percy and Annabeth climbed up, their faces grim.

Leo’s heart stumbled. “Is Jason—?”

“He’s resting,” Annabeth said. “Magnus healed him, but he said Jason will probably be asleep for a half hour or so. Piper’s keeping an eye on him.”

“And Alex? She didn’t look so good when you left.”

Annabeth’s face hardened. “Yeah, well, that was pretty much all of her worst fears at the same time.”

Percy placed a hand on Annabeth’s arm and she relaxed though Leo could see both of them clearly thought Alex’s worst fears had some nerve showing up.

“We showed Alex and Magnus to the guest rooms,” Percy said. “They’re both pretty tired. They’ll join us later.”

Annabeth stared out across the sky. “We need to make a plan. What’s the situation with the ship?”

Leo told Annabeth about the damage and the supplies they needed. At least he felt better talking about something fixable. He was bemoaning the shortage of Celestial bronze when Festus began to whir and squeak.

“Perfect.” Leo sighed with relief.

“What’s perfect?” Annabeth said. “I could use some perfect about now.”

Leo managed a smile. “Everything we need in one place. Frank, why don’t you turn into a bird or something? Fly down and tell your girlfriend to meet us at the Great Salt Lake in Utah.”

* * *

Once they got there, it wasn’t a pretty landing. With the oars damaged and the foresail torn, Leo could barely manage a controlled descent. The others strapped themselves in below—except for Coach Hedge, who insisted on clinging to the forward rail, yelling, “YEAH! Bring it on, lake!”

Leo stood astern, alone at the helm, and aimed as best he could. Festus creaked and whirred warning signals, which were relayed through the intercom to the quarterdeck.

“I know, I know,” Leo said, gritting his teeth.

He didn’t have much time to take in the scenery. To the southeast, a city was nestled in the foothills of a mountain range, blue and purple in the afternoon shadows. A flat desert landscape spread to the south. Directly beneath them the Great Salt Lake glittered like aluminum foil, the shoreline etched with white salt marshes that reminded Leo of aerial photos of Mars.

“Hang on, Coach!” he shouted. “This is going to hurt.”

“I was born for hurt!”

_ WHOOM!  _ A swell of salt water washed over the bow, dousing Coach Hedge. The  _ Argo II _ listed dangerously to starboard, then righted itself and rocked on the surface of the lake. Machinery hummed as the aerial blades that were still working changed to nautical form. Three banks of robotic oars dipped into the water and began moving them forward.

“Good job, Festus,” Leo said. “Take us toward the south shore.”

“Yeah!” Coach Hedge pumped his fists in the air. He was drenched from his horns to hooves, but grinning like a crazy goat. “Do it again!”

“Uh… maybe later,” Leo said. “Just stay above deck, okay? You can keep watch, in case—you know, the lake decides to attack us or something.”

“On it,” Hedge promised.

Leo rang the All clear bell and headed for the stairs. Before he got there, a loud clump-clump-clump shook the hull. A tan stallion appeared on deck with Hazel Levesque on his back.

“How—?” Leo’s question died in his throat. “We’re in the middle of a lake! Can that thing fly?”

The horse whinnied angrily.

“Arion can’t fly,” Hazel said. “But he can run across just about anything. Water, vertical surfaces, small mountains—none of that bothers him.”

“Oh.”

Hazel was looking at him strangely, the way she had during the feast in the forum—like she was searching for something in his face. He was tempted to ask if they had met before, but he was sure they hadn’t. He would remember a pretty girl paying such close attention to him. That didn’t happen a lot.

_ She’s Frank’s girlfriend, _ he reminded himself. Plus there was that random memory. That kinda freaked Leo out.

Frank was still below, but Leo almost wished the big guy would come up the stairs. The way Hazel was studying Leo made him feel uneasy and self-conscious.

Coach Hedge crept forward with his baseball bat, eyeing the magic horse suspiciously. “Valdez, does this count as an invasion?”

“No!” Leo said. “Um, Hazel, you’d better come with me. I built a stable belowdecks, if Arion wants to—”

“He’s more of a free spirit.” Hazel slipped out of the saddle. “He’ll graze around the lake until I call him. But I want to see the ship. Lead the way.”

* * *

The  _ Argo II _ was designed like an ancient trireme, only twice as big. The first deck had one central corridor with crew cabins on either side. On a normal trireme, most of the space would’ve been taken up with three rows of benches for a few hundred sweaty guys to do the manual labor, but Leo’s oars were automated and retractable, so they took up very little room inside the hull. The ship’s power came from the engine room on the second and lowest deck, which also housed sickbay, storage, and the stables.

Leo led the way down the hall. He’d built the ship with eight main cabins—seven for the demigods of the prophecy, and a room for Coach Hedge (Seriously, Chiron considered him a responsible adult chaperone?)—and four guest cabins at Annabeth’s insistence. Maybe the daughter of Athena was psychic. Or just smart. At the stern was a large mess hall/lounge, which was where Leo headed.

On the way, they passed Jason’s room. The door was open. Piper sat at the side of his berth, holding Jason’s hand while he snored with an ice pack on his head. Piper glanced at Leo. She held a finger to her lips for quiet, but she didn’t look angry. That was something. Leo tried to force down his guilt, and they kept walking. When they reached the mess hall, they found the others—Percy, Annabeth, and Frank—sitting dejectedly around the dining table.

Leo had made the lounge as nice as possible, since he figured they’d be spending a lot of time there. The cupboard was lined with magic cups and plates from Camp Half-Blood, which would fill up with whatever food or drink you wanted on command. There was also a magical ice chest with canned drinks, perfect for picnics ashore. The chairs were cushy recliners with thousand-finger massage, built-in headphones, and sword and drink holders for all your demigod kicking-back needs.

There were no windows, but the walls were enchanted to show real-time footage from Camp Half-Blood—the beach, the forest, the strawberry fields—although now Leo was wondering if this made people homesick rather than happy.

Percy was staring longingly at a sunset view of Half-Blood Hill, where the Golden Fleece glittered in the branches of the tall pine tree.

“So we’ve landed,” Percy said. “What now?”

Frank plucked on his bowstring. “Figure out the prophecy? I mean… that was a prophecy Ella spoke, right? From the Sibylline Books?”

“The what?” Leo asked.

Frank explained how their harpy friend was freakishly good at memorizing books. At some point in the past, she’d inhaled a collection of ancient prophecies that had supposedly been destroyed around the fall of Rome.

“That’s why you didn’t tell the Romans,” Leo guessed. “You didn’t want them to get hold of her.”

Percy kept staring at the image of Half-Blood Hill. “Ella’s sensitive. She was a captive when we found her. I just didn’t want…” He made a fist. “It doesn’t matter now. I sent Tyson an Iris-message, told him to take Ella to Camp Half-Blood. They’ll be safe there.”

Leo doubted that any of them would be safe, now that he had stirred up a camp of angry Romans on top of the problems they already had with Gaea and the giants; but he kept quiet.

Annabeth laced her fingers. “Prophecy later. We have to get this ship fixed. Leo, what do we need?”

The door opened. Alex and Magnus entered the lounge. They took seats by Percy and Annabeth.

“Are we interrupting?” Alex asked dully.

“Nope,” Percy said immediately. “We were just asking Leo what we need to fix the ship.”

Everyone looked at Leo expectantly.

“The easiest thing is tar.” Leo was glad to change the subject. “We can get that in the city, at a roofing-supply store or someplace like that. Also, Celestial bronze and lime. According to Festus, we can find both of those on an island in the lake, just west of here.”

“We’ll have to hurry,” Hazel warned. “If I know Octavian, he’s searching for us with his auguries. The Romans will send a strike force after us. It’s a matter of honor.”

Leo felt everyone’s eyes on him. Alex glared at the table.

“Guys… I don’t know what happened,” Leo said. “Honestly, I—”

Annabeth raised her hand. “Drop it, Leo. I don’t think it was you. I had this strange feeling all day like there was another presence on the ship. It wasn’t you. Okay?”

“Then what was it?” Frank asked. “How can we be sure it won’t happen again?”

Leo’s fingers heated up like they were about to catch fire. One of his powers as a son of Hephaestus was that he could summon flames at will; but he had to be careful not to do so by accident, especially on a ship filled with explosives and flammable supplies.

“I’m fine now,” he insisted, though he wished he could be sure. “Maybe we should use the buddy system. Nobody goes anywhere alone. We can leave Piper and Coach Hedge on board with Jason. Send one team into town to get tar. Another team can go after the bronze and the lime.”

“That’s a good idea,” Hazel said. “It’ll be quicker. Besides, there’s a reason a quest is usually limited to three demigods, right?”

“You’re right,” Annabeth said. “The same reason we needed the  _ Argo II _ … outside camp, seven demigods in one place will attract way too much monstrous attention. The ship is designed to conceal and protect us. We should be safe enough on board; but if we go on expeditions, we shouldn’t travel in groups larger than three. No sense alerting more of Gaea’s minions than we have to.”

Percy took Annabeth’s hand. “As long as you’re my buddy, I’m good.”

Hazel smiled. “Oh, that’s easy. Frank, you were amazing, turning into a dragon! Could you do it again to fly Annabeth and Percy into town for the tar?”

Frank opened his mouth like he wanted to protest. “I… I suppose. But what about you?”

“I’ll ride Arion with Sa—with Leo, here.” She fidgeted with her sword hilt, which made Leo uneasy. She had even more nervous energy than he did. “We’ll get the bronze and the lime. We can all meet back here by dark.”

Frank scowled. Obviously, he didn’t like the idea of Leo going off with Hazel. For some reason, Frank’s disapproval made Leo want to go. He had to prove he was trustworthy. He wasn’t going to fire any random ballistae again.

“I’ll go with you,” Alex volunteered.

Magnus sputtered. “You want to leave on a dangerous mission  _ now _ ?”

“First of all, I miss my male chaperoning,” Alex said. “By the way, he and him now, please. Second, I wouldn’t call gathering lime or bronze dangerous. I’m a big demigod now, Magnus. I can handle myself.”

If anything, Frank looked even less pleased that the two demigods responsible for blowing up his city were the ones going with his girlfriend.

“Leo,” said Annabeth, “if we get the supplies, how long to fix the ship?”

“With luck, just a few hours.”

“Fine,” she decided. “We’ll meet you back here as soon as possible, but stay safe. We could use some good luck. That doesn’t mean we’ll get it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And Alex is going with Leo and Hazel. I honestly love Alex the male chaperone in MCGA. Him just casual telling Sam and Amir to behave was some of the best moments of the series.
> 
> Ahh, and Leo has a flashback to the original timeline! Exciting stuff.


	6. I Think I Know Alex and Hazel Gives Me Deja Vu (Leo VI)

RIDING ARION WAS THE BEST THING that had happened to Leo all day—which wasn’t saying much, since his day had sucked. The horse’s hooves turned the surface of the lake to salty mist. Leo put his hand against the horse’s side and felt the muscles working like a well-oiled machine. For the first time, he understood why car engines were measured in horsepower. Arion was a four-legged Maserati.

Ahead of them lay an island—a line of sand so white, it might have been pure table salt. Behind that rose an expanse of grassy dunes and weathered boulders.

Leo sat behind Hazel, one arm around her waist. The close contact made him a little uncomfortable, but it was the only way he could stay on board (or whatever you called it with a horse). He wished Alex had joined them to break the tension, but the shapeshifter had insisted on flying himself down to the island.

Before they left, Percy had pulled him aside to tell him Hazel’s story. Percy made it sound like he was just doing Leo a favor, but there’d been an undertone like  _ If you mess with my friend, I will personally feed you to a great white shark. _

According to Percy, Hazel was a daughter of Pluto. She’d died in the 1940s and been brought back to life last September.

Leo found that hard to believe. Hazel seemed warm and very alive, not like the ghosts or the other reborn mortals Leo had tangled with. She seemed good with people, too, unlike Leo, who was much more comfortable with machines.

Living stuff, like horses and girls? He had no idea what made them work.

Hazel was also Frank’s girlfriend, so Leo knew he should keep his distance. Still, her hair smelled good, and riding with her made his heart race almost against his will. It must’ve been the speed of the horse.

Arion thundered onto the beach. He stomped his hooves and whinnied triumphantly, like Coach Hedge yelling a battle cry.

Hazel and Leo dismounted. Arion pawed the sand.

“He needs to eat,” Hazel explained. “He likes gold, but—”

“Gold?” Leo asked.

“He’ll settle for grass. Go on, Arion. Thanks for the ride. I’ll call you.”

Just like that, the horse was gone—nothing left but a steaming trail across the lake.

“Fast horse,” Leo said, “and expensive to feed.”

“Not really,” Hazel said. “Gold is easy for me.”

Leo raised his eyebrows. “How is gold easy? Please tell me you’re not related to King Midas. I don’t like that guy.”

Hazel pursed her lips, as if she regretted raising the subject. “Never mind.”

That made Leo even more curious, but he didn’t have the chance to press the subject because just then, Alex the exotic green and pink bird—Leo wasn’t sure that was even a real type of bird—fluttered down. When he landed, he was back as a human once more. Alex stared off in the direction Ario had run in.

“Fast horse,” Alex noted.

“That’s what I said.”

Alex frowned. “Right. So. What now?”

Leo knelt and cupped a handful of white sand. “Well… one problem solved, anyway. This is lime.”

Hazel frowned. “The whole beach?”

“Yeah. See? The granules are perfectly round. It’s not really sand. It’s calcium carbonate.” Leo pulled a Ziploc bag from his tool belt and dug his hand into the lime.

Suddenly he froze. He remembered all the times the earth goddess Gaea had appeared to him in the ground—her sleeping face made of dust or sand or dirt. She loved to taunt him. He imagined her closed eyes and her dreaming smile swirling in the white calcium.

_ Walk away, little hero, _ Gaea said.  _ Without you, the ship cannot be fixed. _

“Leo?” Hazel asked. “You okay?”

He took a shaky breath. Gaea wasn’t here. He was just freaking himself out.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, fine.”

He started to fill the bag.

Hazel knelt next to him and helped. “We should’ve brought a pail and shovels.”

“Nah,” Alex said. “It’s better to get your hands dirty.”

Leo glanced up at him for a moment before returning to filling his bag. He didn’t really get Alex  _ or _ Magnus. They showed up briefly during Jason’s quest for Hera last December and fought the monsters at the Wolf House, but after staying at Camp Half-Blood for a few days, they left.

Then, back in February, Annabeth had been in a panic about them being in trouble. She went out looking a few times, but had never found any sign of them. Then, they arrive at the Roman camp to find that Percy Jackson had run into them on  _ his _ quest.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them. But it was too big of a coincidence that they just happened to run into them. Plus, Alex dredged up strange memories.

_ “Hey. I’m Leo,” he said. _

_ The kid with green hair pulled back into a ponytail glanced at him. “Alex. And I’m a girl right now.” _

_ “Nice to meet you,” Leo said. _

_ Alex snorted. “You don’t have to pretend. Besides, I won’t be here much longer.” _

_ “You got a foster family?” _

_ “As if. I’m running away. My first family didn’t work out. I don’t want a new one.” _

Leo wasn’t sure where this was coming from. He was certain he never met Alex before that day on the mountain with Lycaon and his wolves.

“I’m sorry,” Hazel said, looking at Leo. “You are so much like—”

“Sammy?” Leo said automatically.

She fell backward. “You know?”

“I have no idea who Sammy is. But…” Leo trailed off. He frowned. “That’s weird,” he murmured. “Deja vu.” Leo shook his head. “Uh, Frank asked me if I was sure that wasn’t my name.”

“And… it isn’t?”

“No! Jeez.”

“You don’t have a twin brother or…” Hazel stopped. “Is your family from New Orleans?”

“Nah. Houston. Why? Is Sammy a guy you used to know?”

“I… It’s nothing. You just look like him.”

Leo could tell she was too embarrassed to say more. But if Hazel was a kid from the past, did that mean Sammy was from the 1940s? If so, how could Frank know the guy? And why would Hazel think Leo was Sammy, all these decades later?

“You guys really should film a soap opera,” Alex said.

They finished filling the bag in silence. Leo stuffed it in his tool belt and the bag vanished—no weight, no mass, no volume—though Leo knew it would be there as soon as he reached for it. Anything that could fit into the pockets, Leo could tote around. He loved his tool belt. He just wished the pockets were large enough for a chainsaw, or maybe a bazooka.

He stood and scanned the island—bleach-white dunes, blankets of grass, and boulders encrusted with salt like frosting. “Festus said there was Celestial bronze close by, but I’m not sure where—”

“That way.” Hazel pointed up the beach. “About five hundred yards.”

“How do you—?”

“Precious metals,” Hazel said. “It’s a Pluto thing.”

Leo remembered what she’d said about gold being easy. “Handy talent. Lead the way, Miss Metal Detector.”

* * *

The sun began to set. The sky turned a bizarre mix of purple and yellow. In another reality, Leo might’ve enjoyed a walk on the beach with a pretty girl, but Alex the apparent male chaperone—whatever that was about—was with them and the further they went, the edgier Leo felt.

Finally Hazel turned inland.

“You sure this is a good idea?” he asked.

“We’re close,” she promised. “Come on.”

Just over the dunes, they saw the woman.

She sat on a boulder in the middle of a grassy field. A black-and-chrome motorcycle was parked nearby, but each of the wheels had a big pie slice removed from the spokes and rim, so that they resembled Pac-Men. No way was the bike drivable in that condition.

The woman had curly black hair and a bony frame. She wore black leather biker’s pants, tall leather boots, and a blood-red leather jacket—sort of a Michael Jackson joins the Hell’s Angels look. Around her feet, the ground was littered with what looked like broken shells. She was hunched over, pulling new ones out of a sack and cracking them open. Shucking oysters? Leo wasn’t sure if there were oysters in the Great Salt Lake. He didn’t think so.

He wasn’t anxious to approach. He’d had bad experiences with strange ladies. His old babysitter, Tía Callida, had turned out to be Hera and had a nasty habit of putting him down for naps in a blazing fireplace. The earth goddess Gaea had killed his mother in a workshop fire when Leo was eight. The snow goddess Khione had tried to turn him into a frozen dairy treat in Sonoma.

But Hazel forged ahead with Alex right behind her, so he didn’t have much choice except to follow.

As they got closer, Leo noticed disturbing details. Attached to the woman’s belt was a curled whip. Her red-leather jacket had a subtle design to it—twisted branches of an apple tree populated with skeletal birds. The oysters she was shucking were actually fortune cookies.

A pile of broken cookies lay ankle-deep all around her. She kept pulling new ones from her sack, cracking them open, and reading the fortunes. Most she tossed aside. A few made her mutter unhappily. She would swipe her finger over the slip of paper like she was smudging it, then magically reseal the cookie and toss it into a nearby basket.

Alex stopped suddenly. “Not another one,” he grumbled.

“Not another what?” Hazel asked.

Leo ignored their conversation. “What are you doing?” he asked before he could stop himself.

The woman looked up. Leo’s lungs filled so fast, he thought they might burst.

“Aunt Rosa?” he asked.

It didn’t make sense, but this woman looked exactly like his aunt. She had the same broad nose with a mole on one side, the same sour mouth and hard eyes. But it couldn’t be Rosa. She would never wear clothes like that, and she was still down in Houston, as far as Leo knew. She wouldn’t be cracking open fortune cookies in the middle of the Great Salt Lake.

“Is that what you see?” the woman asked. “Interesting. And you, Hazel, dear?”

“How did you—?” Hazel stepped back in alarm. “You—you look like Mrs. Leer. My third grade teacher. I hated you.”

The woman cackled. “Excellent. You resented her, eh? She judged you unfairly?”

“You—she taped my hands to the desk for misbehaving,” Hazel said. “She called my mother a witch. She blamed me for everything I didn’t do and—No. She has to be dead. Who are you?”

The woman looked at Alex who had gone stiff and was glaring furiously at her. “This one’s angry. Who do you see, Alex?”

“My step-mother,” Alex spat out.

The woman looked surprised. “Odd. I would have thought someone else.” She shrugged. “Ah, well. Who am I? Alex knows.”

Alex’s fists were tightly curled by his side. “Nemesis. Goddess of revenge.”

“Ethan’s mom?” Leo asked in surprise.

“Oh, you know my son,” Nemesis said. She cracked open another cookie and wrinkled her nose. “You will have great fortune when you least expect it,” she read. “That’s exactly the sort of nonsense I hate. Someone opens a cookie, and suddenly they have a prophecy that they’ll be rich! I blame that tramp Tyche. Always dispensing good luck to people who don’t deserve it!”

Leo looked at the mound of broken cookies. “Uh… you know those aren’t real prophecies, right? They’re just stuffed in the cookies at some factory—”

“Don’t try to excuse it!” Nemesis snapped. “It’s just like Tyche to get people’s hopes up. No, no. I must counter her.” Nemesis flicked a finger over the slip of paper, and the letters changed to red. “You will die painfully when you most expect it. There! Much better.”

“That’s horrible!” Hazel said. “You’d let someone read that in their fortune cookie, and it would come true?”

Nemesis sneered. It really was creepy, seeing that expression on Aunt Rosa’s face. “My dear Hazel, haven’t you ever wished horrible things on Mrs. Leer for the way she treated you?”

“That doesn’t mean I’d want them to come true!”

“Because someone has to be the better person,” Alex said. “If we enacted revenge on everyone who hurt us, that would make us no better than them.”

“Bah.” The goddess resealed the cookie and tossed it in her basket. “Tyche would be Fortuna for you, Hazel dear, I suppose, being Roman. Like the others, she’s in a horrible way right now. Me? I’m not affected. I am called Nemesis in both Greek and Roman. I do not change, because revenge is universal.”

“What are you talking about?” Leo asked. “What are you doing here?”

Nemesis opened another cookie. “Lucky numbers. Ridiculous! That’s not even a proper fortune!” She crushed the cookie and scattered the pieces around her feet. “To answer your question, Leo Valdez, the gods are in terrible shape. It always happens when a civil war is brewing between you Romans and Greeks. The Olympians are torn between their two natures, called on by both sides. They become quite schizophrenic, I’m afraid. Splitting headaches. Disorientation.”

“But we’re not at war,” Leo insisted.

Alex stared at him. “Uh, did you forget when we attacked New Rome?”

“Yeah, but that wasn’t on purpose!” Leo said.

“But the Romans don’t realize that,” Hazel said. “And they’ll be pursuing us in retaliation.”

Nemesis cackled. “Leo, listen to the girl. War is coming. Gaea has seen to it, with your help. And can you guess whom the gods blame for their predicament?”

Leo’s mouth tasted like calcium carbonate. “Me. Alex. Me.”

The goddess snorted. “Well, don’t you have a high opinion of yourself. You’re just a pawn on the chessboard, Leo Valdez. I was referring to the player who set this ridiculous quest in motion, bringing the Greeks and Romans together. The gods blame Hera—or Juno, if you prefer! The queen of the heavens has fled Olympus to escape the wrath of her family. Don’t expect any more help from your patron!”

Leo’s head throbbed. He had mixed feelings about Hera. She’d meddled in his life since he was a baby, molding him to serve her purpose in this big prophecy, but at least she had been on their side, more or less. If she was out of the picture now…

“Great,” Alex said brightly. “Never liked her anyway.”

Leo looked at Nemesis. “So why are you here?” he asked.

“Why, to offer my help!” Nemesis smiled wickedly.

Leo glanced at Hazel. She looked like she’d just been offered a free snake. He looked at Alex who didn’t look much happier about the proposition.

“Your help,” Leo said.

“Of course!” said the goddess. “I enjoy tearing down the proud and powerful, and there are none who deserve tearing down like Gaea and her giants. Still, I must warn you that I will not suffer undeserved success. Good luck is a sham. The wheel of fortune is a Ponzi scheme. True success requires sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” Hazel’s voice was tight. “I lost my mother. I died and came back. Now my brother is missing. Isn’t that enough sacrifice for you?”

Leo could totally relate. He wanted to scream that he’d lost his mom too. His whole life had been one misery after another. He’d lost his dragon, Festus. He’d nearly killed himself trying to finish the  _ Argo II _ . Now he’d fired on the Roman camp, most likely started a war, and maybe lost the trust of his friends.

“Right now,” he said, trying to control his anger, “all I want is some Celestial bronze.”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Nemesis said. “It’s just over the rise. You’ll find it with the sweethearts.”

“Wait,” Hazel said. “What sweethearts?”

“Like the candy?” Alex asked.

Nemesis popped a cookie in her mouth and swallowed it, fortune and all. “You’ll see. Perhaps they will teach you a lesson, Hazel Levesque. Most heroes cannot escape their nature, even when given a second chance at life.” She smiled. “And speaking of your brother Nico, you don’t have much time. Let’s see… it’s June twenty-fifth? Yes, after today, six more days. Then he dies, along with the entire city of Rome.”

Hazel’s eyes widened. “How… what—?”

“And as for you, child of fire.” She turned to Leo. “Your worst hardships are yet to come. You will always be the outsider, the seventh wheel. You will not find a place among your brethren. Soon you will face a problem you cannot solve, though I could help you… for a price.”

Leo smelled smoke. He realized fingers on his left hand were ablaze, and Hazel was staring at him in terror. He shoved his hand in his pocket to extinguish the flames. “I like to solve my own problems.”

“Very well.” Nemesis brushed cookie dust off her jacket.

“But, um, what sort of price are we talking about?”

The goddess shrugged. “You say you know Ethan? He traded an eye for the ability to make a real difference in the world. He has of course. Him and Percy Jackson helped ensure fair treatment for the children of minor gods.”

Leo’s stomach churned. “You… want an eye?”

“An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” Alex quoted probably some famous person.

Nemesis short him a scathing look. She looked back at Leo. “In your case, perhaps another sacrifice would do. But something just as painful. Here.” She handed him an unbroken fortune cookie. “If you need an answer, break this. It will solve your problem.”

Leo’s hand trembled as he held the fortune cookie. “What problem?”

“You’ll know when the time comes.”

“No, thanks,” Leo said firmly. But his hand, as though it had a will of its own, slipped the cookie into his tool belt.

Nemesis picked another cookie from her bag and cracked it open. “You will have cause to reconsider your choices soon. Oh, I like that one. No changes needed here.” She resealed the cookie and tossed it into the basket. “Very few gods will be able to help you on the quest. Most are already incapacitated, and their confusion will only grow worse. One thing might bring unity to Olympus again—an old wrong finally avenged. Ah, that would be sweet indeed, the scales finally balanced! But it will not happen unless you accept my help.”

“I suppose you won’t tell us what you’re talking about,” Hazel muttered. “Or why my brother Nico has only six days to live. Or why Rome is going to be destroyed.”

Nemesis chuckled. She rose and slung her sack of cookies over her shoulder. “Oh, it’s all tied together, Hazel Levesque. As for my offer, Leo Valdez, give it some thought. You’re a good child. A hard worker. We could do business. But I have detained you too long. You should visit the reflecting pool before the light fades. My poor cursed boy gets quite… agitated when the darkness comes.”

Leo didn’t like the sound of that, but the goddess climbed on her motorcycle. Apparently, it was drivable, despite those Pac-Man–shaped wheels, because Nemesis revved her engine and disappeared in a mushroom cloud of black smoke.

Hazel bent down. All the broken cookies and fortunes had disappeared except for one crumpled slip of paper. She picked it up and read, “You will see yourself reflected, and you will have reason to despair.”

“Fantastic,” Leo grumbled. “Let’s go see what that means.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I firmly believe in everything is tied together in this universe, so at some point, Leo was in some home in Boston at the same time as Alex in the canon timeline. I mean, Leo ran away multiple times, so I think it's possible he was all over the country. Anyway, so... yeah. I really like having all the characters tied together.


	7. We Meet the Dead Guy Fan Club (Leo VII)

“WHO IS AUNT ROSA?” HAZEL ASKED.

Leo didn’t want to talk about her. Nemesis’s words were still buzzing in his ears. His tool belt seemed heavier since he’d put the cookie in there—which was impossible. Its pockets could carry anything without adding extra weight. Even the most fragile things would never break. Still, Leo imagined he could feel it in there, dragging him down, waiting to be cracked open.

“Long story,” he said. “She abandoned me after my mom died, gave me to foster care.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, family sucks,” Alex grumbled.

Hazel’s face fell. “Oh. Um, you’re step-mom didn’t like demigods?”

“That certainly didn’t help,” Alex said. He kicked at the ground, grass clumps shooting high into the air. “My dad had an affair with a god, said god opened my family's eyes to the mythical world, and if you haven’t noticed, I don’t fit high society’s standard of ‘normal’ in any way. My father threw me out and I met Magnus after that. Met his cousin and Percy too. They’re great people.” He glanced at Hazel. “Nico’s a good guy. You’re brother, right?”

“Nico?” Leo asked. “Nico di Angelo? But he’s a Greek demigod!”

Hazel blinked like she’d gotten salt in her eyes. “I know. I just found out he’s really Greek. But Nico… he found me in the Underworld. He brought me back to the mortal world and convinced the Romans at Camp Jupiter to accept me. I owe him for my second chance at life. If Nemesis is right, and Nico’s in danger… I have to help him.”

“Sure,” Leo said, though the idea made him uneasy. He doubted the revenge goddess ever gave advice out of the goodness of her heart. “And what Nemesis said about your brother having six days to live, and Rome getting destroyed… any idea what she meant?”

“None,” Hazel admitted. “But I’m afraid…”

Whatever she was thinking, she decided not to share it. She climbed one of the largest boulders to get a better view. Leo tried to follow and lost his balance. Hazel caught his hand. She pulled him up and they found themselves atop the rock, holding hands, face-to-face.

Hazel’s eyes glittered like gold.

_ Gold is easy, _ she’d said. It didn’t seem that way to Leo—not when he looked at her. He wondered who Sammy was. Leo had a nagging suspicion that he should know, but he just couldn’t place the name. Whoever he was, he was lucky if Hazel cared for him.

“Okay, break it up,” Alex said, leaning against the base of the rock.

Leo dropped Hazel’s hand, but they were still standing so close, he could feel the warmth of her breath. She definitely didn’t seem like a dead person.

“When we were talking to Nemesis,” Hazel said uneasily, “your hands… I saw flames.”

“Yeah,” he said. “It’s a Hephaestus power. Usually I can keep it under control.”

“Oh.” She put one hand protectively on her denim shirt, like she was about to say the Pledge of Allegiance. Leo got the feeling she wanted to back away from him, but the boulder was too small.

_ Great, _ he thought.  _ Another person who thinks I’m a scary freak. _

He gazed across the island. The opposite shore was only a few hundred yards away. Between here and there were dunes and clumps of boulders, but nothing that looked like a reflecting pool.

_ You will always be the outsider, _ Nemesis had told him,  _ the seventh wheel. You will not find a place among your brethren. _

She might as well have poured acid in his ears. Leo didn’t need anybody to tell him he was the odd man out. He’d spent months alone in Bunker 9 at Camp Half-Blood, working on his ship while his friends trained together and shared meals and played capture-the-flag for fun and prizes.

His friend, Festus the dragon, had been reduced to a figurehead when his control disk had gotten destroyed on their last adventure. Leo didn’t have the technical skill to repair it.

The seventh wheel. Leo had heard of a fifth wheel—an extra, useless piece of equipment. He figured a seventh wheel was worse.

He’d thought maybe this quest would be a fresh start for him. All his hard work on the  _ Argo II _ would pay off. He’d have six good friends who would admire and appreciate him, and they’d go sailing off into the sunrise to fight giants. Maybe, Leo secretly hoped, he’d even find a girlfriend.

_ Do the math, _ he chided himself.

Nemesis was right. He might be part of a group of seven, but he was still isolated. He had fired on the Romans and brought his friends nothing but trouble. And now, Magnus and Alex were with them. He wasn't the seventh wheel. He was the ninth wheel.

_ You will not find a place among your brethren. _

“Leo?” Hazel asked gently. “You can’t take what Nemesis said to heart.”

He frowned. “What if it’s true?”

“She’s the goddess of revenge,” Hazel reminded him. “Maybe she’s on our side, maybe not; but she exists to stir up resentment.”

Leo wished he could dismiss his feelings that easily. He couldn’t. Still, it wasn’t Hazel’s fault.

“We should keep going,” he said. “I wonder what Nemesis meant about finishing before dark.”

Hazel glanced at the sun, which was just touching the horizon. “And who is the cursed boy she mentioned?”

Below them, a voice said, “Cursed boy she mentioned.”

“Holy Frigg!” Alex yelped.

At first, Leo saw no one. Then his eyes adjusted. He realized a young woman was standing only ten feet from the base of the boulder. Her dress was a Greek-style tunic the same color as the rocks. Her wispy hair was somewhere between brown and blond and gray, so it blended with the dry grass. She wasn’t invisible, exactly, but she was almost perfectly camouflaged until she moved. Even then, Leo had trouble focusing on her. Her face was pretty but not memorable. In fact, each time Leo blinked, he couldn’t remember what she looked like, and he had to concentrate to find her again.

“Hello,” Hazel said. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” the girl answered. Her voice sounded weary, like she was tired of answering that question.

Hazel and Leo exchanged looks. With this demigod gig, you never knew what you’d run into. Nine times out of ten, it wasn’t good. A ninja girl camouflaged in earth tones didn’t strike Leo as something he wanted to deal with just then.

“Are you the cursed kid Nemesis mentioned?” Leo asked. “But you’re a girl.”

“You’re a girl,” said the girl.

“Why is she repeating everything?” Alex demanded.

“Repeating everything,” the girl said miserably.

Leo tilted his head. “Wasn’t there a story about a girl who repeated everything—?”

“Echo,” Hazel said.

“Echo,” the girl agreed. She shifted, her dress changing with the landscape. Her eyes were the color of the salt water. Leo tried to home in on her features, but he couldn’t.

“I don’t remember the myth,” he admitted. “You were cursed to repeat the last thing you heard?”

“You heard,” Echo said.

“Poor thing,” Hazel said. “If I remember right, a goddess did this?”

“A goddess did this,” Echo confirmed.

“What did she do that was so bad?” Alex asked. “What goddess?”

Echo pointed up. “What goddess.”

Leo glanced up at the sky. “Sky… wait. Did Hera curse you?”

“Of course she did,” Alex grumbled.

“She did,” Echo nodded.

Leo scratched his head. “But wasn’t that thousands of years… oh. You’re one of the mortals who came back through the Doors of Death. I really wish we could stop running into dead people.”

“Dead people,” Echo said, like she was chastising him.

He realized Hazel was staring at her feet.

“Uh… sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“That way.” Echo pointed toward the far shore of the island.

“You want to show us something?” Hazel asked. She climbed down the boulder, and Leo followed.

Even up close, Echo was hard to see. In fact, she seemed to get more invisible the longer he looked at her.

“You sure you’re real?” he asked. “I mean… flesh and blood?”

“Flesh and blood.” She touched Leo’s face and made him flinch. Her fingers were warm.

“So… you have to repeat everything?” he asked.

“Everything.”

Leo couldn’t help smiling. “That could be fun.”

“Fun,” she said unhappily.

“Blue elephants.”

“Blue elephants.”

“Kiss me, you fool.”

“You fool.”

“Hey!”

“Hey!”

Alex pushed Leo’s shoulder. “Shut up, Valdez!”

“Valdez?” Hazel repeated.

“Valdez,” Echo sighed.

Hazel had gone very, very pale. She was staring at Leo with something very much like horror on her face.

“Hazel?” Alex asked. “You okay?”

“Fine,” she stammered. “Um… can we go?”

“We go,” Echo agreed.

“Okay, okay,” Leo said. “So what were you pointing at? Do you need our help?”

“Help,” Echo agreed emphatically. She gestured for them to follow and sprinted down the slope. Leo could only follow her progress by the movement of the grass and the shimmer of her dress as it changed to match the rocks.

“We’d better hurry,” Hazel said. “Or we’ll lose her.” Her face still hadn’t regained all it’s color, but she looked better.

Leo noticed that Hazel wouldn’t meet his eyes anymore though.

* * *

They found the problem—if you can call a mob of good-looking girls a problem. Echo led them down into a grassy meadow shaped like a blast crater, with a small pond in the middle. Gathered at the water’s edge were several dozen nymphs. At least, Leo guessed they were nymphs. Like the ones at Camp Half-Blood, these wore gossamer dresses. Their feet were bare. They had elfish features, and their skin had a slightly greenish tinge.

Leo didn’t understand what they were doing, but they were all crowded together in one spot, facing the pond and jostling for a better view. Several held up phone cameras, trying to get a shot over the heads of the others. Leo had never seen nymphs with phones. He wondered if they were looking at a dead body. If so, why were they bouncing up and down and giggling so excitedly?

“What are they looking at?” Leo wondered.

“Looking at,” Echo sighed.

“Pottery,” Alex suggested. “Artwork.”

“One way to find out.” Hazel marched forward and began nudging her way through the crowd. “Excuse us. Pardon me.”

“Hey!” one nymph complained. “We were here first!”

“Yeah,” another sniffed. “He won’t be interested in you.”

The second nymph had large red hearts painted on her cheeks. Over her dress, she wore a T-shirt that read: OMG, I <3 N!!!!

“Uh, demigod business,” Leo said, trying to sound official. “Make room. Thanks.”

The nymphs grumbled, but they parted to reveal a young man kneeling at the edge of the pond, gazing intently at the water.

Leo usually didn’t pay much attention to how other guys looked. He supposed that came from hanging around Jason—tall, blond, rugged, and basically everything Leo could never be. Leo was used to not being noticed by girls. At least, he knew he’d never get a girl by his looks. He hoped his personality and sense of humor would do that someday, though it definitely hadn’t worked yet.

At any rate, Leo couldn’t miss the fact that the guy at the pond was one super good-looking dude. He had a chiseled face with lips and eyes that were somewhere between feminine beautiful and masculine handsome. Dark hair swept over his brow. He might’ve been seventeen or twenty, it was hard to say, but he was built like a dancer—with long graceful arms and muscular legs, perfect posture and an air of regal calm. He wore a simple white T-shirt and jeans, with a bow and quiver strapped to his back. The weapons obviously hadn’t been used in a while. The arrows were covered in dust. A spider had woven a web in the top of the bow.

As Leo edged closer, he realized the guy’s face was unusually golden. In the sunset, the light was bouncing off a large flat sheet of Celestial bronze that lay at the bottom of the pond, washing Mr. Handsome’s features in a warm glow.

The guy seemed fascinated with his reflection in the metal.

Hazel inhaled sharply. “He’s gorgeous.”

Even Alex seemed to be appreciating the guy’s good looks.

Around Leo and the others, the nymphs squealed and clapped in agreement.

“I am,” the young man murmured dreamily, his gaze still fixed on the water. “I am so gorgeous.”

One of the nymphs showed her iPhone screen. “His latest YouTube video got a million hits in like, an hour. I think I was half of those!”

The other nymphs giggled.

“YouTube video?” Leo asked. “What does he do in the video, sing?”

“No, silly!” the nymph chided. “He used to be a prince, and a wonderful hunter and stuff. But that doesn’t matter. Now he just… well, look!” She showed Leo the video. It was exactly what they were seeing in real life—the guy staring at himself in the pond.

“He is sooooo hot!” said another girl. Her T-shirt read: MRS. NARCISSUS.

“Narcissus?” Leo asked.

“Narcissus,” Echo agreed sadly.

Leo had forgotten Echo was there. Apparently none of the nymphs had noticed her either.

“Oh, not you again!” Mrs. Narcissus tried to push Echo away, but she misjudged where the camouflaged girl was and ended up shoving several other nymphs.

“You had your chance, Echo!” said the nymph with the iPhone. “He dumped you four thousand years ago! You are so not good enough for him.”

“For him,” Echo said bitterly.

“Wait.” Hazel clearly had trouble tearing her eyes away from the handsome guy, but she managed it. “What’s going on here? Why did Echo bring us here?”

One nymph rolled her eyes. She was holding an autograph pen and a crumpled poster of Narcissus. “Echo was a nymph like us, a long time ago, but she was a total chatterbox! Gossiping, blah, blah, blah, all the time.”

“I know!” another nymph shrieked. “Like, who could stand that? Just the other day, I told Cleopeia—you know she lives in the boulder next to me?—I said: Stop gossiping or you’ll end up like Echo. Cleopeia is such a big mouth! Did you hear what she said about that cloud nymph and the satyr?”

“You mean don’t gossip exactly how you’re doing it now?” Alex said slowly.

The nymph gave him a sour look.

“So anyway,” said the nymph with the poster, “as punishment for blabbing, Hera cursed Echo so she could only repeat things, which was fine with us. But then Echo fell in love with our gorgeous guy, Narcissus—as if he would ever notice her.”

“As if!” said half a dozen others.

“Now she’s got some weird idea he needs saving,” said Mrs. Narcissus. “She should just go away.”

“Go away,” Echo growled back.

“I’m so glad Narcissus is alive again,” said another nymph in a gray dress. She had the words NARCISSUS + LAIEA written up and down her arms in black marker. “He’s like the best! And he’s in my territory.”

“Oh, stop it, Laiea,” her friend said. “I’m the pond nymph. You’re just the rock nymph.”

“Well, I’m the grass nymph,” another protested.

“No, he obviously came here because he likes the wildflowers!” another said. “Those are mine!”

The whole mob began arguing while Narcissus stared at the lake, ignoring them.

Alex gapped at them open mouthed.  _ What the Hel? _ he mouthed.

“Hold it!” Leo yelled. “Ladies, hold it! I need to ask Narcissus something.”

Slowly the nymphs settled down and went back to taking pictures.

Leo knelt next to the handsome dude. “So, Narcissus. What’s up?”

“Could you move?” Narcissus asked distractedly. “You’re ruining the view.”

Leo looked in the water. His own reflection rippled next to Narcissus’s on the surface of the submerged bronze. Leo didn’t have any desire to stare at himself. Compared to Narcissus, he looked like an undergrown troll. But there was no doubt the metal was a sheet of hammered Celestial bronze, roughly circular, about five feet in diameter.

What it was doing in this pond, Leo wasn’t sure. Celestial bronze fell to earth in odd places. He’d heard that most pieces were cast off from his dad’s various workshops. Hephaestus would lose his temper when projects didn’t work out, and he’d toss his scraps into the mortal world. This piece looked like it might have been meant as a shield for a god, but it hadn’t turned out properly. If Leo could get it back to the ship, it would be just enough bronze for his repairs.

“Right, great view,” Leo said. “Happy to move, but if you’re not using it, could I just take that sheet of bronze?”

“No,” Narcissus said. “I love him. He’s so gorgeous.”

Leo looked around to see if the nymphs were laughing. This had to be a huge joke. But they were swooning and nodding in agreement. Only Hazel and Alex seemed appalled. Hazel wrinkled her nose as if she’d come to the conclusion that Narcissus smelled worse than he looked.

“Man,” Leo said to Narcissus. “You do realize that you’re looking at yourself in the water, right?”

“I am so great,” Narcissus sighed. He stretched out a hand longingly to touch the water, but held back. “No, I can’t make ripples. That ruins the image. Wow… I am so great.”

“Yeah,” Leo muttered. “But if I took the bronze, you could still see yourself in the water. Or here…” He reached in his tool belt and pulled out a simple mirror the size of a monocle. “I’ll trade you.”

Narcissus took the mirror, reluctantly, and admired himself. “Even you carry a picture of me? I don’t blame you. I am gorgeous. Thank you.” He set the mirror down and returned his attention to the pond. “But I already have a much better image. The color flatters me, don’t you think?”

“Oh, gods, yes!” a nymph screamed. “Marry me, Narcissus!”

“No, me!” another cried. “Would you sign my poster?”

“No, sign my shirt!”

“No, sign my forehead!”

“No, sign my—”

“Shut it!” Alex yelled.

“Stop it!” Hazel snapped.

“Stop it,” Echo agreed.

Leo had lost sight of Echo again, but now he realized she was kneeling on the other side of Narcissus, waving her hand in front of his face as if trying to break his concentration. Narcissus didn’t even blink.

The nymph fan club tried to shove Hazel out of the way, but she drew her cavalry sword and forced them back. “Snap out of it!” she yelled.

“He won’t sign your sword,” the poster nymph complained.

“He won’t marry you,” said the iPhone girl. “And you can’t take his bronze mirror! That’s what keeps him here!”

“You’re all ridiculous,” Hazel said. “He’s so full of himself! How can you possibly like him?”

“Like him,” Echo sighed, still waving her hand in front of his face.

The others sighed along with her.

“I am so hot,” Narcissus said sympathetically.

“Narcissus, listen.” Hazel kept her sword at the ready. “Echo brought us here to help you. Didn’t you, Echo?”

“Echo,” said Echo.

“Who?” Narcissus said.

“The only girl who cares what happens to you, apparently,” Hazel said. “Do you remember dying?”

Narcissus frowned. “I… no. That can’t be right. I am much too important to die.”

“You died staring at yourself,” Hazel insisted. “I remember the story now. Nemesis was the goddess who cursed you, because you broke so many hearts. Your punishment was to fall in love with your own reflection.”

“I love me so, so much,” Narcissus agreed.

“You finally died,” Hazel continued. “I don’t know which version of the story is true. You either drowned yourself or turned into a flower hanging over the water or—Echo, which is it?”

“Which is it?” she said hopelessly.

Leo stood. “It doesn’t matter. The point is you’re alive again, man. You have a second chance. That’s what Nemesis was telling us. You can get up, and get on with your life. Echo is trying to save you. Or you can stay here and stare at yourself until you die again.”

“Stay here!” all the nymphs screamed.

“Marry me before you die!” another squeaked.

Narcissus shook his head. “You just want my reflection. I don’t blame you, but you can’t have it. I belong to me.”

Hazel sighed in exasperation. She glanced at the sun, which was sinking fast. Then she gestured with her sword toward the edge of the crater. “Leo, Alex, could we talk for a minute?”

“Excuse us,” Leo told Narcissus. “Echo, want to come with?”

“Come with,” Echo confirmed.

The nymphs clustered around Narcissus again and began recording new videos and taking more photos.

Hazel led the way until they were out of earshot. “Nemesis was right,” she said. “Some demigods can’t change their nature. Narcissus is going to stay there until he dies again.”

“I don’t believe that,” Alex said. “I know it’s possible. Ethan, Nemesis’s son? I helped change him. I didn’t give up on him.”

Leo nodded. “I’m with Alex. I say we take away that bronze. It might give Narcissus a reason to snap out of it. Echo could have a chance to save him.”

“A chance to save him,” Echo said gratefully.

Hazel stabbed her sword in the sand. “It could also make several dozen nymphs very angry with us,” she said. “And Narcissus might still know how to shoot his bow.”

Leo pondered that. The sun was just about down. Nemesis had mentioned that Narcissus got agitated after dark, probably because he couldn’t see his reflection anymore. Leo didn’t want to stick around long enough to find out what the goddess meant by agitated. He’d also had experience with mobs of crazed nymphs. He wasn’t anxious to repeat that.

“Hazel,” he said, “your power with precious metal—Can you just detect it, or can you actually summon it to you?”

She frowned. “Sometimes I can summon it. I’ve never tried with a piece of Celestial bronze that big before. I might be able to draw it to me through the earth, but I’d have to be fairly close. It would take a lot of concentration, and it wouldn’t be fast.”

“Be fast,” Echo warned.

Leo cursed. He had hoped they could just go back to the ship, and Hazel could teleport the Celestial bronze from a safe distance.

“All right,” he said. “We’ll have to try something risky. Hazel, how about you try to summon the bronze from right here? Make it sink through the sand and tunnel over to you, then grab it and run for the ship.”

“But Narcissus is looking at it all the time,” she said.

“All the time,” Echo echoed.

“That’ll be my job,” Leo said, hating his own plan already. “Echo and I will cause a distraction.”

“Distraction?” Echo asked.

“I’ll explain,” Leo promised. “Are you willing?”

“Willing,” Echo said.

“Great,” Leo said. “Now, let’s hope we don’t die.” He looked at Alex. “Alex—”

Alex held up his hands. “Oh no. Don’t say it. I’m not giving anymore  _ stupid _ rides—”

“I was going to ask you to help me with my part, but now that you mention it, might be a good idea for you to hurry to help Hazel if something goes wrong,” Leo said.

“Something’s going to go wrong,” Alex said.

Leo grinned. “Yeah, that’s pretty much guaranteed. Let’s do this!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cnfdiijdfjdxjkxjmdxjmszjjxdjxdjk I'm sooooo done with school. My brain is fried. Most of my classes suck. I haven't been able to write much because I have so much homework. It's not even a lot of assignments, it just a few that take forever.
> 
> Anyway, halfway through the semester, it's about time I hit the peak and start free falling off the cliff. Ahhh, the rest of these chapters will probably be posted from Tartarus, but it's fine.
> 
> You guys are amazing and I look forward to posting these chapters everyday. Highlight of my day, so thank you for reading!


	8. Alex Would Make a Great Bodyguard (Leo VIII)

LEO PSYCHED HIMSELF UP for an extreme makeover. He summoned some breath mints and a pair of welding goggles from his tool belt. The goggles weren’t exactly sunglasses, but they’d have to do. Although, his tool belt had managed to produce bright green sunglasses for Alex. Unfair, but typical.

He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. He used some machine oil to grease back his hair. He stuck a wrench in his back pocket (why exactly, he wasn’t sure) and he had Hazel draw a tattoo on his biceps with a marker: HOT STUFF, with a skull and crossbones.

“What in the world are you thinking?” She sounded pretty flustered.

“I try not to think,” Leo admitted. “It interferes with being nuts. Just concentrate on moving that Celestial bronze. Echo, you ready?”

“Ready,” she said.

“Alex?”

“Ready,” he confirmed.

Leo took a deep breath. He strutted back toward the pond, hoping he looked awesome and not like he had some sort of nervous affliction. “Leo is the coolest!” he shouted.

“Leo is the coolest!” Echo shouted back.

“Yeah, baby, check me out!”

“Check me out!” Echo said.

“Make way for the king!”

“The king!”

“Narcissus is weak!”

“Weak!”

The crowd of nymphs scattered in surprise. Alex shooed them away, his garrotte out and looking overall intimidating. He was like the scariest mix of bodyguard and talent agent and also maybe a little government agenty looking.

“Make way!” he yelled. “Famous demigod coming through. No touching please. Hands to yourself.”

Leo waved to the nymphs. “No autographs, girls. I know you want some Leo time, but I’m way too cool. You better just hang around that ugly dweeb Narcissus. He’s lame!”

“Lame!” Echo said with enthusiasm.

The nymphs muttered angrily.

“What are you talking about?” one demanded.

“You’re lame,” said another.

Leo adjusted his goggles and smiled. He flexed his biceps, though he didn’t have much to flex, and showed off his HOT STUFF tattoo. He had the nymphs’ attention, if only because they were stunned; but Narcissus was still fixed on his own reflection.

“You know how ugly Narcissus is?” Leo asked the crowd. “He’s so ugly, when he was born his mama thought he was a backward centaur—with a horse butt for a face.”

Some of the nymphs gasped. Narcissus frowned, as though he was vaguely aware of a gnat buzzing around his head.

“You know why his bow has cobwebs?” Leo continued. “He uses it to hunt for dates, but he can’t find one!”

One of the nymphs laughed. The others quickly elbowed her into silence.

Narcissus turned and scowled at Leo. “Who are you?”

“Who is this?” Alex repeated incredulously. “Who is this? You don’t know him?”

“I’m the Super-sized McShizzle, man!” Leo said. “I’m Leo Valdez, bad boy supreme. And the ladies love a bad boy.”

“Love a bad boy!” Echo said, with a convincing squeal.

Leo took out a pen and autographed the arm of one of the nymphs. “Narcissus is a loser! He’s so weak, he can’t bench-press a Kleenex. He’s so lame, when you look up lame on Wikipedia, it’s got a picture of Narcissus—only the picture’s so ugly, no one ever checks it out.”

Narcissus knit his handsome eyebrows. His face was turning from bronze to salmon pink. For the moment, he’d totally forgotten about the pond, and Leo could see the sheet of bronze sinking into the sand.

“What are you talking about?” Narcissus demanded. “I am amazing. Everyone knows this.”

“Amazing at pure suck,” Leo said. “If I was as suck as you, I’d drown myself. Oh wait, you already did that.”

Another nymph giggled. Then another. Narcissus growled, which did make him look a little less handsome. Meanwhile Leo beamed and wiggled his eyebrows over his goggles and spread his hands, gesturing for applause.

“That’s right!” he said. “Team Leo for the win!”

“Team Leo for the win!” Echo shouted. She’d wriggled into the mob of nymphs, and because she was so hard to see, the nymphs apparently thought the voice came from one of their own.

“Oh my god, I am so awesome!” Leo bellowed.

“So awesome!” Echo yelled back.

“He is funny,” a nymph ventured.

“And cute, in a scrawny way,” another said.

“Scrawny?” Leo asked. “Baby, I invented scrawny. Scrawny is the new sizzling hot. And I GOT the scrawny. Narcissus? He’s such a loser even the Underworld didn’t want him. He couldn’t get the ghost girls to date him.”

“Eww,” said a nymph.

“Eww!” Echo agreed.

“Stop!” Narcissus got to his feet. “This is not right! This person is obviously not awesome, so he must be… ” He struggled for the right words. It had probably been a long time since he’d talked about anything other than himself. “He must be tricking us.”

Apparently Narcissus wasn’t completely stupid. Realization dawned on his face. He turned back to the pond. “The bronze mirror is gone! My reflection! Give me back to me!”

“Team Leo!” one of the nymphs squeaked. But the others returned their attention to Narcissus.

“I’m the beautiful one!” Narcissus insisted. “He’s stolen my mirror, and I’m going to leave unless we get it back!”

The girls gasped. One pointed. “There!”

Hazel was at the top of the crater, running away as fast as she could while lugging a large sheet of bronze.

“Get it back!” cried a nymph.

Probably against her will, Echo muttered, “Get it back.”

“Yes!” Narcissus unslung his bow and grabbed an arrow from his dusty quiver. “The first one who gets that bronze, I will like you almost as much as I like me. I might even kiss you, right after I kiss my reflection!”

“Oh my gods!” the nymphs screamed.

“And kill those demigods!” Narcissus added, glaring very handsomely at Leo. “They are not as cool as me!”

* * *

Leo could run pretty fast when someone was trying to kill him. Sadly, he’d had a lot of practice. He overtook Hazel, which was easy, since she was struggling with fifty pounds of Celestial bronze. He took one side of the metal plate and glanced back. Narcissus was nocking an arrow, but it was so old and brittle, it broke into splinters.

“Ow!” he yelled very attractively. “My manicure!”

Normally nymphs were quick—at least the ones at Camp Half-Blood were—but these were burdened with posters, T-shirts, and other Narcissus™ merchandise. The nymphs also weren’t great at working as a team. They kept stumbling over one another, pushing and shoving. Echo made things worse by running among them, tripping and tackling as many as she could.

Still, they were closing rapidly.

“Call Arion!” Leo gasped.

“Already did!” Hazel said.

“I  _ told _ you it would go wrong!” Alex yelled as they ran for the beach. Leo appreciated that he hadn’t turned into a bird and flown off to leave them at the mercy of the angry nymphs.

They made it to the edge of the water and could see the  _ Argo II _ , but there was no way to get there. It was much too far to swim, even if they hadn’t been toting bronze.

Leo turned. The mob was coming over the dunes, Narcissus in the lead, holding his bow like a band major’s baton. The nymphs had conjured assorted weapons. Some held rocks. Some had wooden clubs wreathed in flowers. A few of the water nymphs had squirt guns—which seemed not quite as terrifying—but the look in their eyes was still murderous.

“Oh, man,” Leo muttered, summoning fire in his free hand. “Straight-up fighting isn’t my thing.”

“Hold the Celestial bronze.” Hazel drew her sword. “Get behind me and Alex!”

“Get behind me!” Echo repeated. The camouflaged girl was racing ahead of the mob now. She stopped in front of Leo and turned, spreading her arms as if she meant to personally shield him.

“Echo?” Leo could hardly talk with the lump in his throat. “You’re one brave nymph.”

“Brave nymph?” Her tone made it a question.

“I’m proud to have you on Team Leo,” he said. “If we survive this, you should forget Narcissus.”

“Forget Narcissus?” she said uncertainly.

“You’re way too good for him.”

The nymphs surrounded them in a semicircle.

“Trickery!” Narcissus said. “They don’t love me, girls! We all love me, don’t we?”

“Yes!” the girls screamed, except for one confused nymph in a yellow dress who squeaked, “Team Leo!”

“Kill them!” Narcissus ordered.

The nymphs surged forward, but the sand in front of them exploded. Arion raced out of nowhere, circling the mob so quickly he created a sandstorm, showering the nymphs in white lime, spraying their eyes.

“I love this horse!” Leo said.

“Praise the gods because I was  _ not _ giving out more rides,” Alex muttered.

The nymphs collapsed, coughing and gagging. Narcissus stumbled around blindly, swinging his bow like he was trying to hit a piñata.

Hazel climbed into the saddle, hoisted up the bronze, and offered Leo a hand.

“We can’t leave Echo!” Leo said.

“Leave Echo,” the nymph repeated.

She smiled, and for the first time Leo could clearly see her face. She really was pretty. Her eyes were bluer than he’d realized. How had he missed that?

“Why?” Leo asked. “You don’t think you can still save Narcissus…”

“Save Narcissus,” she said confidently. And even though it was only an echo, Leo could tell that she meant it. She’d been given a second chance at life, and she was determined to use it to save the guy she loved—even if he was a completely hopeless (though very handsome) moron.

Leo wanted to protest, but Echo leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek, then pushed him gently away.

“Leo, come on!” Hazel called. “Alex!”

The other nymphs were starting to recover. They wiped the lime out of their eyes, which were now glowing green with anger. Leo looked for Echo again, but she had dissolved into the scenery.

“Yeah,” he said, his throat dry. “Yeah, okay.”

“I’ll meet you guys up there!” Alex called. A bird took his place and flapped up towards the sky.

Leo climbed up behind Hazel. Arion took off across the water, the nymphs screaming behind them, and Narcissus shouting, “Bring me back! Bring me back!”

As Arion raced toward the  _ Argo II _ , Leo remembered what Nemesis had said about Echo and Narcissus: _ Perhaps they’ll teach you a lesson. _

Leo had thought she’d meant Narcissus, but now he wondered if the real lesson for him was Echo—invisible to her brethren, cursed to love someone who didn’t care for her. A seventh wheel. He tried to shake that thought. He clung to the sheet of bronze like a shield.

He was determined never to forget Echo’s face. She deserved at least one person who saw her and knew how good she was. Leo closed his eyes, but the memory of her smile was already fading.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If we're talking standalones, Rick, I think we should get an Echo book. Like what happened with her and Narcissus? Did she save him? Did she find someone else who actually deserved her?
> 
> I could probably come up with a million ideas for some standalones, though, so I guess not every idea can get written. It would still be cool to see this though.


	9. Divining the Future Via Knife (Piper IX)

PIPER DIDN’T WANT TO USE THE KNIFE. But sitting in Jason’s cabin, waiting for him to wake up, she felt alone and helpless.

Jason’s face was so pale, he might’ve been dead. She remembered the awful sound of that brick hitting his forehead—an injury that had happened only because he’d tried to shield her from the Romans.

Even with the nectar and ambrosia they’d managed to force-feed him and Magnus's healing, Piper couldn’t be sure he would be okay when he woke up. What if he’d lost his memories again? That would be the worst joke in the world. The cruelest trick the gods could play. It had been bad enough when Jason’s memories had been gone and Hera planted him on a bus giving Piper and Leo fake memories of him, but now after six months of building up a good, solid friendship? Jason losing his memories would be devastating.

She heard Gleeson Hedge in his room next door, humming a military song—“Stars and Stripes Forever,” maybe? Since the satellite TV was out, the satyr was probably sitting on his bunk reading back issues of Guns & Ammo magazine. He wasn’t a bad chaperone, but he was definitely the most warlike old goat Piper had ever met.

Of course she was grateful to the satyr. He had helped her dad, movie actor Tristan McLean, get back on his feet after being kidnapped by giants the past winter. A few weeks ago, Hedge had asked his girlfriend, Mellie, to take charge of the McLean household so he could come along to help with this quest.

Coach Hedge had tried to make it sound like returning to Camp Half-Blood had been all his idea, but Piper suspected there was more to it. The last few weeks, whenever Piper called home, her dad and Mellie had asked her what was wrong. Maybe something in her voice had tipped them off.

Piper couldn’t share the visions she’d seen. They were too disturbing. Besides, her dad had taken a potion that had erased all of Piper’s demigod secrets from his memory. But he could still tell when she was upset, and she was pretty sure her dad had encouraged Coach to look out for her.

She shouldn’t draw her blade. It would only make her feel worse.

Finally the temptation was too great. She unsheathed Katoptris. It didn’t look very special, just a triangular blade with an unadorned hilt, but it had once been owned by Helen of Troy. The dagger’s name meant “looking glass.”

Piper gazed at the bronze blade. At first, she saw only her reflection. Then light rippled across the metal. She saw a crowd of Roman demigods gathered in the forum. The blond scarecrow-looking kid, Octavian, was speaking to the mob, shaking his fist. Piper couldn’t hear him, but the gist was obvious:  _ We need to kill those Greeks! _

Reyna, the praetor, stood to one side, her face tight with suppressed emotion. Bitterness? Anger?

Piper wasn’t sure.

She didn’t really know how she felt about Reyna. It was clear Reyna had feelings towards Jason, but Jason didn’t appear to be knowledgeable about those feelings. But back in December, Jason had readily agreed to try out just friends for now. Was this why? Did he start remembering Reyna even back then?

Despite that, Piper couldn’t hate Reyna. During the feast in the forum, Piper had admired the way Reyna kept her feelings in check. Reyna had clearly thought that Jason and Piper were together and though that was false, she didn’t know and had stayed polite and in control. She’d put her camp’s needs ahead of her emotions. She’d given the Greeks a fair chance… right up until the  _ Argo II _ had started destroying her city.

Maybe Reyna wasn’t so bad, but it didn’t matter now. They’d messed up the chance for peace. Piper’s power of persuasion had, for once, done absolutely no good.

Her secret fear? Maybe she hadn’t tried hard enough. Piper had never wanted to make friends with the Romans. She was too worried about losing Jason to his old life. Maybe unconsciously she hadn’t put her best effort into the charmspeak.

She had been training with Silena for a few weeks at the end of December and beginning of January, then again in June before setting off on the quest. Her charmspeak should have been powerful enough to have worked, yet it hadn’t.

Now Jason was hurt. The ship had been almost destroyed. And according to her dagger, that crazy teddy-bear-strangling kid, Octavian, was whipping the Romans into a war frenzy.

The scene in her blade shifted. There was a rapid series of images she’d seen before, but she still didn’t understand them: Jason riding into battle on horseback, his eyes gold instead of blue; a woman in an old-fashioned Southern belle dress, standing in an oceanside park with palm trees; a bull with the face of a bearded man, rising out of a river; and two giants in matching yellow togas, hoisting a rope on a pulley system, lifting a large bronze vase out of a pit.

Then came the worst vision: she saw herself with Jason, Percy, and Magnus, standing waist-deep in water at the bottom of a dark circular chamber, like a giant well. Ghostly shapes moved through the water as it rose rapidly. Piper clawed at the walls, trying to escape, but there was nowhere to go. The water reached their chests. Jason was pulled under. Percy looked panicked while at the same time trying to keep an air of calmness. Magnus was treading water frantically, eyes squeezed tight and—was the water around him glowing?

Piper watched as Percy stumbled and disappeared.

How could a child of the sea god drown? Piper didn’t know, but she watched herself in the vision, alone and thrashing in the dark, until the water rose over her head.

Piper shut her eyes.  _ Don’t show me that again, _ she pleaded.  _ Show me something helpful. _ She forced herself to look at the blade again.

This time, she saw an empty highway cutting between fields of wheat and sunflowers. A mileage marker read: TOPEKA 32. On the shoulder of the road stood a man in khaki shorts and a purple camp shirt. His face was lost in the shadow of a broad hat, the brim wreathed in leafy vines. He held up a silver goblet and beckoned to Piper. Somehow she knew he was offering her some sort of gift—a cure, or an antidote.

“Hey,” Jason croaked.

Piper was so startled she dropped the knife. “You’re awake!”

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Jason touched his bandaged head and frowned. “What… what happened? I remember the explosions, and—”

“You remember who I am?”

Jason tried to laugh, but it turned into a painful wince. “Last I checked, you’re Piper McLean, one of my best friends. Unless you’re too cool to be friends with a guy that got knocked out by a brick?”

Piper let out a nervous laugh. “No. No, I’m not too cool to be your friend. Oh gods, Jason, do you know how worried I was? I’m glad you’re okay. Here,” she said as Jason sat up. She gave him some nectar while she brought him up to speed. She was just explaining Leo’s plan to fix the ship when she heard horse hooves clomping across the deck over their heads.

Moments later, Leo and Hazel stumbled to a stop in the doorway, carrying a large sheet of hammered bronze between them.

“Gods of Olympus.” Piper stared at Leo. “What happened to you?”

His hair was greased back. He had welding goggles on his forehead, a lipstick mark on his cheek, tattoos all over his arms, and a T-shirt that read HOT STUFF, BAD BOY, and TEAM LEO.

“Long story,” he said. “Others back?”

“Not yet,” Piper said.

Leo cursed. Then he noticed Jason sitting up, and his face brightened. “Hey, man! Glad you’re better. I’ll be in the engine room.”

He ran off with the sheet of bronze, leaving Hazel in the doorway.

Piper raised an eyebrow at her. “Team Leo?”

“We met Narcissus,” Hazel said, which didn’t really explain much. “Also Nemesis, the revenge goddess.”

Jason sighed. “I miss all the fun.”

On the deck above, something went THUMP, as if a heavy creature had landed.

“OH MY GOD!” someone laughed. Piper thought it might be Magnus. The boy was the only demigod she’d met that didn’t say  _ gods _ .

Annabeth and Percy came running down the hall. Percy was toting a steaming five-gallon plastic bucket that smelled horrible. Annabeth had a patch of black sticky stuff in her hair. Percy’s shirt was covered in it.

“Roofing tar?” Piper guessed.

Frank stumbled up behind them, which made the hallway pretty jam-packed with demigods. Frank had a big smear of the black sludge down his face.

“Ran into some tar monsters,” Annabeth said. “Hey, Jason, glad you’re awake. Love to stay and talk but we have to get this to Leo.”

Suddenly the entire ship listed to port. The demigods stumbled. Percy almost spilled his bucket of tar.

“YEAH! TEAM LEO!” someone on deck shouted.

“Alex is on Team Leo?” Percy asked, sounding confused.

“Oh…” Hazel looked embarrassed. “I think he may be trying to taunt the nymphs. It’s a long story, but we may have angered the nymphs who live in this lake. Like… all of them.”

“Great.” Percy handed the bucket of tar to Frank and Annabeth. “You guys help Leo. I’ll hold off the water spirits as long as I can.”

“On it!” Frank promised.

The three of them ran off, leaving Hazel at the cabin door. The ship listed again, and Hazel hugged her stomach like she was going to be sick.

“I’ll just… ” She swallowed, pointed weakly down the passageway, and ran off.

Jason and Piper stayed below as the ship rocked back and forth. For a hero, Piper felt pretty useless. Waves crashed against the hull as angry voices came from above deck—Percy shouting, Coach Hedge yelling at the lake. Festus the figurehead breathed fire several times. Down the hall, Hazel moaned miserably in her cabin. In the engine room below, it sounded like Leo and the others were doing an Irish line dance with anvils tied to their feet. After what seemed like hours, the engine began to hum. The oars creaked and groaned, and Piper felt the ship lift into the air. The rocking and shaking stopped. The ship became quiet except for the drone of machinery.

Finally Leo emerged from the engine room. He was caked in sweat, lime dust, and tar. His T-shirt looked like it had been caught in an escalator and chewed to shreds. The TEAM LEO on his chest now read: AM LEO. But he grinned like a madman and announced that they were safely under way.

“Meeting in the mess hall, one hour,” he said. “Crazy day, huh?”

* * *

After everyone had cleaned up, Coach Hedge took the helm and the demigods gathered below for dinner. It was the first time they’d all sat down together—just the seven of them. Maybe their presence should’ve reassured Piper, but seeing all of them in one place only reminded her that the Prophecy of Seven was unfolding at last. No more waiting for Leo to finish the ship. No more easy days at Camp Half-Blood, pretending the future was still a long way off. They were under way, with a bunch of angry Romans behind them and the ancient lands ahead. The giants would be waiting. Gaea was rising. And unless they succeeded in this quest, the world would be destroyed.

Annabeth wasted no time, pushing past Jason and Percy to sit at the head of the table. A good thing too because there was a hint of challenge in both Jason and Percy’s eyes. Piper had no trouble believing that if either one of them was put incharge, things would get really bad.

Percy sat on Annabeth’s right and Jason sat across from him on Annabeth’s left instead.

The crew compared notes on what had happened in Salt Lake City, but even Leo’s ridiculous story about how he tricked Narcissus wasn’t enough to cheer up the group.

“So where to now?” Leo asked with a mouthful of pizza. “I did a quick repair job to get us out of the lake, but there’s still a lot of damage. We should really put down again and fix things right before we head across the Atlantic.”

Percy was eating a piece of pie, which for some reason was completely blue—filling, crust, even the whipped cream. “We need to put some distance between us and Camp Jupiter,” he said. “Frank spotted some eagles over Salt Lake City. We figure the Romans aren’t far behind us.”

That didn’t improve the mood around the table. Piper didn’t want to say anything, but she felt obliged… and a little guilty. “I don’t suppose we should go back and try to reason with the Romans? Maybe—maybe I didn’t try hard enough with the charmspeak.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Jason assured her. “There were too many of them. We’d need an army of charmspeakers. No, whatever happened, it was Gaea’s doing, to drive the two camps apart.”

“Well, she succeeded,” Alex commented. “What I don’t get is why—?” He cut himself off. “Nevermind. Not important now. There’s got to be  _ something _ we can do.” He sent a look at Percy and Annabeth.

“Maybe we could try and explain that it wasn’t Leo or Alex’s fault?” Piper suggested.

“With no proof?” Annabeth asked. “Do you know what really happened, Piper? I appreciate what you’re saying, I don’t want the Romans on our bad side, but until we all understand what Gaea’s up to, going back is suicide.”

“She’s right,” Hazel said. She still looked a little queasy from seasickness, but she was trying to eat a few saltine crackers. The rim of her plate was embedded with rubies, and Piper was pretty sure they hadn’t been there at the beginning of the meal. “Reyna might listen, but Octavian won’t. The Romans have honor to think about. They’ve been attacked. They’ll shoot first and ask questions post hac.”

Piper stared at her own dinner. The magical plates could conjure up a great selection of vegetarian stuff. She especially liked the avocado and grilled pepper quesadilla, but tonight she didn’t have much of an appetite.

She thought about the visions she’d seen in her knife: Jason with golden eyes; the bull with the human head; the two giants in yellow togas hoisting a bronze jar from a pit. Worst of all, she remembered herself drowning in black water.

Piper had always liked the water. She had good memories of surfing with her dad. But since she’d started seeing that vision in Katoptris, she’d been thinking more and more of an old Cherokee story her granddad used to tell to keep her away from the river near his cabin. He told her the Cherokees believed in good water spirits, like the naiads of the Greeks; but they also believed in evil water spirits, the water cannibals, who hunted mortals with invisible arrows and were especially fond of drowning small children.

“You’re right,” she decided. “We have to keep going. Not just because of the Romans. We have to hurry.”

Hazel nodded. “Nemesis said we have only six days until Nico dies and Rome is destroyed.”

Jason frowned. “You mean Rome Rome, not New Rome?”

“I think,” Hazel said. “But if so, that’s not much time.”

“That’s no time,” Magnus said in shock. “We have to cross the whole United States, the Atlantic Ocean, and half of Europe. Then we have to  _ find _ Nico.”

“What’s the deal with Nico anyway?” Alex asked. “I thought he was at Camp still.”

Annabeth couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. “I… he left a week ago.”

“Right when I arrived at Camp Jupiter,” Percy noted. “He was there with Frank and Hazel.”

Leo’s pizza paused halfway to his mouth. “Do you think he knew about Percy? I mean, about him coming.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Hazel dismissed. “How could he have known?” She looked back at Annabeth. “Did he say where he was going?”

“I… yes,” Annabeth said. She looked a little guilty.

“Where?” Hazel pressed.

Annabeth set her fork down. “He was going on a mission. He said he had to make a stop and then he was going to look for the answer we need about the Doors of Death.”

Piper noticed how carefully worded Annabeth’s statement was.

Hazel let out a breath. “Sounds right. He said he was going looking for the Doors before I left with Percy and Frank. I still don’t understand why six days though. And how do they plan to destroy Rome?”

No one answered. Piper didn’t want to add further bad news, but she felt she had to.

“There’s more,” she said. “I’ve been seeing some things in my knife.”

Frank froze with a forkful of spaghetti halfway to his mouth. “Things such as…?”

“They don’t really make sense,” Piper said, “just garbled images, but I saw two giants, dressed alike. Maybe twins.”

Annabeth stared at the magical video feed from Camp Half-Blood on the wall. Right now it showed the living room in the Big House: a cozy fire on the hearth and Seymour, the stuffed leopard head, snoring contentedly above the mantel.

“The twin giants,” Annabeth said. “Twins like in Ella’s prophecy.”

“So if we figure out those lines, it might help,” Jason said.

“ _ Wisdom’s daughter walks alone, _ ” Piper recited. “ _ The Mark of Athena burns through Rome _ . Obviously that’s you, Annabeth.”

“There’s something I should tell you,” Annabeth said quickly. “The Mark of Athena… it’s a quest Athena gives to some of her children. Before we left, Reyna was telling me about an old legend among Roman praetors—something to do with Athena. It's the reason the Greeks and Romans could never get along.”

Leo, Hazel, and Alex exchanged nervous looks.

“Nemesis mentioned something similar,” Leo said. “She talked about an old score that had to be settled—”

“The one thing that might bring the gods’ two natures into harmony,” Hazel recalled. “‘An old wrong finally avenged.’”

Jason looked worried. “Did… did Reyna tell you then? Do you know what it is?” he asked Annabeth.

She shook her head. “Reyna never got the chance to tell me, but… well, there’s only one thing I can think of. The Athena Parthenos.”

“Like the place in Nashville?” Leo asked. “The Parthenos?”

“Parthe _ non _ ,” Annabeth corrected. “And, kind of. The Athena Parthenos was a statue that used to be in the original Parthenon in Athens. It was lost centuries ago when Rome invaded Greece. I think that’s what I have to find.” She looked up from the table. “The statue was made of gold and ivory.”

“ _ The giants’ bane stands gold and pale _ ,” Hazel quoted. “That’s perfect!”

“Except the next line,” Piper pointed out. “ _ Won through pain from a woven jail _ .”

“I’ll figure it out,” Annabeth said, looking as queasy as Hazel. “The rest of the lines we should think about.”

“And those are really inspiring,” Magnus muttered. “ _ Twins snuff out the angel’s breath / Who holds the key to endless death _ . Those twin giants are going to kill an angel. Do you even have angels in Greek mythology? Isn’t that more of a Christian thing? Oh my god, are you going to meet Jesus?”

Annabeth gave her cousin a disapproving look. “No. Prophecies aren’t always literal.”

“I really hope that line about giants’ bane is literal,” Leo said. “We could use some giants’ bane, right? According to Nemesis, this statue could help keep the gods schizophrenic act together.”

Percy nodded. “We can’t kill the giants without the help of the gods.”

Jason turned to Frank and Hazel. “I thought you guys killed that one giant in Alaska without a god’s help, just the two of you.”

“Alcyoneus was a special case,” Frank said. “He was only immortal in the territory where he was reborn—Alaska. But not in Canada. I wish I could kill all the giants by dragging them across the border from Alaska into Canada, but… ” He shrugged. “Percy’s right, we’ll need the gods.”

Piper gazed at the walls. She really wished Leo hadn’t enchanted them with images of Camp Half-Blood. It was like a doorway to home that she could never go through. She watched the hearth of Hestia burning in the middle of the green as the cabins turned off their lights for curfew.

She wondered how the Roman demigods, Frank and Hazel, felt about those images. They’d never even been to Camp Half-Blood. Did it seem alien to them, or unfair that Camp Jupiter wasn’t represented? Did it make them miss their own home?

The other lines of the prophecy turned in Piper’s mind. What was a woven jail? How could twins snuff out an angel’s breath? The key to endless death didn’t sound very cheerful, either.

“So...” Leo pushed his chair away from the table. “First things first, I guess. We’ll have to put down in the morning to finish repairs.”

“Someplace close to a city,” Annabeth suggested, “in case we need supplies. But somewhere out of the way, so the Romans will have trouble finding us. Any ideas?”

No one spoke. Piper remembered her vision in the knife: the strange man in purple, holding out a goblet and beckoning to her. He’d been standing in front of a sign that read TOPEKA 32.

“Well,” she ventured, “how do you guys feel about Kansas?”

Percy’s expression became a very, very fixed smile. “I hate Kansas. Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some info about the Athena Parthenos much earlier than in the books. And they're going to Kansas. What joy!


	10. Percy Draws the Short Straw (Piper X)

PIPER HAD TROUBLE FALLING ASLEEP.

Coach Hedge spent the first hour after curfew doing his nightly duty, walking up and down the passageway yelling, “Lights out! Settle down! Try to sneak out, and I’ll smack you back to Long Island!”

He banged his baseball bat against a cabin door whenever he heard a noise, shouting at everyone to go to sleep, which made it impossible for anyone to go to sleep. Piper figured this was the most fun the satyr had had since he’d pretended to be a gym teacher at the Wilderness School.

She stared at the bronze beams on the ceiling. Her cabin was pretty cozy. Leo had programmed their quarters to adjust automatically to the occupant’s preferred temperature, so it was never too cold or too hot. The mattress and the pillows were stuffed with pegasus down (no pegasi were harmed in the making of these products, Leo had assured her), so they were über-comfortable. A bronze lantern hung from the ceiling, glowing at whatever brightness Piper wished. The lantern’s sides were perforated with pinholes, so at night glimmering constellations drifted across her walls.

Piper had so many things on her mind, she thought she’d never sleep. But there was something peaceful about the rocking of the boat and the drone of the aerial oars as they scooped through the sky.

Finally her eyelids got heavy, and she drifted off.

It seemed like only a few seconds had passed before she woke to the breakfast bell.

“Yo, Piper!” Leo knocked on her door. “We’re landing!”

“Landing?” She sat up groggily.

Leo opened her door and poked his head in. He had his hand over his eyes, which would’ve been a nice gesture if he hadn’t been peeking through his fingers. “You decent?”

“Leo!”

“Sorry.” He grinned. “Hey, nice Power Ranger jammies.”

“They are not Power Rangers! They’re Cherokee eagles!”

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, we’re setting down a few miles outside Topeka, as requested. And, um…” He glanced out in the passageway, then leaned inside again. “Thanks for not hating me, about blowing up the Romans yesterday.”

Piper rubbed her eyes. The feast in New Rome had been only yesterday? “That’s okay, Leo. You weren’t in control of yourself.”

“Yeah, but still… you didn’t have to stick up for me.”

“Are you kidding? You’re like the annoying little brother I never had. Of course I’ll stick up for you.”

“Uh… thanks?”

From above, Coach Hedge yelled, “Thar she blows! Kansas, ahoy!”

“Holy Hephaestus,” Leo muttered. “He really needs to work on his ship-speak. I’d better get above deck.”

By the time Piper had showered, changed, and grabbed a bagel from the mess hall, she could hear the ship’s landing gear extending. She climbed on deck and joined the others as the  _ Argo II _ settled in the middle of a field of sunflowers. The oars retracted. The gangplank lowered itself.

The morning air smelled of irrigation, warm plants, and fertilized earth. Not a bad smell. It reminded Piper of Grandpa Tom’s place in Tahlequah, Oklahoma, back on the reservation. Percy was the first to notice her. He smiled in greeting, which for some reason surprised Piper. He was wearing faded jeans and a fresh orange Camp Half-Blood T-shirt, as if he’d never been away from the Greek side. The new clothes had probably helped his mood—and of course the fact that he was standing at the rail with his arm around Annabeth.

Piper was happy to see Annabeth with a sparkle in her eyes, because Piper had never had a better friend. For months, Annabeth had been tormenting herself, her every waking moment consumed with the search for Percy. Now, despite the dangerous quest they were facing, at least she had her boyfriend back.

“So!” Annabeth plucked the bagel out of Piper’s hand and took a bite, but that didn’t bother Piper. Back at camp, they’d had a running joke about stealing each other’s breakfast. “Here we are. What’s the plan?”

“I want to check out the highway,” Piper said. “Find the sign that says Topeka 32.”

Leo spun his Wii controller in a circle, and the sails lowered themselves. “We shouldn’t be far,” he said. “Festus and I calculated the landing as best we could. What do you expect to find at the mile marker?”

Piper explained what she’d seen in the knife—the man in purple with a goblet. She kept quiet about the other images, though, like the vision of Percy, Magnus, Jason, and herself drowning. She wasn’t sure what it meant, anyway; and everyone seemed in such better spirits this morning, she didn’t want to ruin the mood.

“Purple shirt?” Jason asked. “Vines on his hat? Sounds like Bacchus.”

“Great. Mr. B,” Percy muttered. “Do we  _ have to _ go see him?”

Annabeth elbowed Percy, but her face showed worry. “Yes. You know we have to. Besides, maybe Bacchus isn’t as bad as Dionysus.”

“He’s not,” Jason said. “Bacchus is cool. I did him a favor once up in the wine country.”

Percy shrugged. “Whatever you say, man.”

“I thought the gods were supposed to have quit contacting you guys,” Magnus said. “You said they closed Olympus.”

Frank grunted. The big guy was wearing a blue tracksuit this morning, like he was ready to go for a jog in the sunflowers. “The gods haven’t been very good at following that order,” he noted. “Besides, if the gods have gone schizophrenic like Hazel said—”

“And Leo said,” added Leo.

“And Alex,” Alex added.

Frank scowled at them. “Then who knows what’s going on with the Olympians? Could be some pretty bad stuff out there.”

“Sounds dangerous!” Leo agreed cheerfully. “Well… you guys have fun. I’ve got to finish repairs on the hull. Coach Hedge is gonna work on the broken crossbows. And, uh, Annabeth—I could really use your help. You’re the only other person who even sort of understands engineering.”

Annabeth looked hesitant to go. “He’s right,” she admitted. “I  _ should _ stay and help, but, Percy…”

“I’ll be back,” Percy promised. “Remember? Never again.”

“I remember that being as long as we’re together,” Annabeth said pointedly.

Percy kissed her on the cheek. “We’re always together.” He tapped his chest. “I got you with me no matter what.”

They were so easy together, it made Piper’s heart ache. She wanted someone to love her like that. She wanted someone to love like that.

Frank slid his bow off his shoulder and propped it against the rail. “I think I should turn into a crow or something and fly around, keep an eye out for Roman eagles.”

“Why a crow?” Leo asked. “Man, if you can turn into a dragon, why don’t you just turn into a dragon every time? That’s the coolest.”

“I hate dragons,” Magnus said. “I hate Thursdays. I hate dragons. No more dragons unless we need a dragon, please.”

Frank’s face—which had been contorted in anger at Leo’s comment—looked utterly baffled. “You hate dragons?”

“You’d hate them too if her mom tried to kill me through one,” Magnus said, jerking his thumb at Alex.

Alex spread her arms like ‘what are you going to do?’. “I saved you.”

“My hero,” Magnus said.

“Knight in pink and green cuadros,” Alex said. “Isn’t that what you called me?”

Magnus snorted. “I forgot about that. Yeah.”

Piper tried not to let her emotions show. Even Magnus and Alex—who weren’t even really supposed to be here—were so easy together. She was surrounded by love.

“Um, I’ll help Frank,” Hazel volunteered. “I can summon Arion and scout around below.”

“Sure,” Frank agreed. “Thanks.”

Piper wondered what was going on with those three. Hazel, Frank, and Leo that was. Every since the other day, the boys had been showing off for Hazel and razzing each other—that she understood. But since the trip to get supplies, Hazel had been avoiding Leo. She wondered if something had happened on their trip to the Great Salt Lake.

Hazel turned to Percy. “Just be careful when you go out there. Lots of fields, lots of crops. Could be karpoi on the loose.”

“Karpoi?” Piper asked.

“Grain spirits,” Hazel said. “You don’t want to meet them.”

Piper didn’t see how a grain spirit could be so bad, but Hazel’s tone convinced her not to ask.

“That leaves the five of us,” Percy said. “Which is a big group.”

“Piper should go,” Jason said. “It’s her vision. I’ll go too.”

Magnus grimaced. “Alex and I should probably stay here. If you’re meeting Bacchus… I don’t think he’ll like us being there.”

“Probably,” Percy agreed.

Piper frowned. “Why wouldn’t he like you two being there?”

“Because we’re not Roman,” Alex explained smoothly. “I know Percy isn’t either, but he  _ was _ praetor and he did a favor for Mr. D once.”

“I didn’t do it for him,” Percy muttered.

“You kept his kids alive through the Battle of Manhattan,” Alex said. “He’ll remember that.”

Percy sighed. “Fine. Alright. It’s the three of us to check on the mile marker. I’m not psyched about seeing Mr. D again. That guy is a pain. But, Jason, if you’re on better terms with him—”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “If we find him, I’ll talk to him. Piper, it’s your vision. You should take the lead.”

Piper shivered. She’d seen the three of them drowning in that dark well. Was Kansas where it would happen? That didn’t seem right, but she couldn’t be sure.

“Of course,” she said, trying to sound upbeat. “Let’s find the highway.”

“Great,” Percy said. “But first, let’s call some rides. We shouldn’t risk walking over Gaea’s territory.”

“No,” Piper agreed. “That would be bad. But what rides?”

“Not me,” Alex muttered, stalking off away from them.

“Hmm...” Jason snapped his fingers. “I can call a friend for a ride.”

“No!” Percy said, shaking his head wildly. He gestured to the sky. “Don’t you think that might tip the Romans off? If you summon Tempest, they’ll see the storm and know you’re here.”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. “How do you know about Tempest?”

“Annabeth told me,” Percy said quickly. “I’ll call some pegasi to take us.” He closed his eyes and concentrated.

Piper hadn’t studied him up close before. After hearing so much at Camp Half-Blood about Percy Jackson this and Percy Jackson that, she thought he looked… well, unimpressive. Which wasn’t really his fault. The way everyone at Camp spoke of him, Piper was almost convinced Percy Jackson was a Greek myth. Well, a  _ myth _ myth.

Seeing him now… He wasn’t really Piper’s type. If she’d seen him in the mall somewhere, she probably would’ve thought he was a skater—cute in a scruffy way, a little on the wild side, definitely a troublemaker. She would have steered clear. She had enough trouble in her life. But she could see why Annabeth liked him, and she could definitely see why Percy needed Annabeth in his life. If anybody could keep a guy like that under control, it was Annabeth. And if anyone could remind Annabeth to live and have fun, it was Percy.

Percy opened his eyes with a smile. He pointed east, where three winged shapes were spiraling toward them. At first, Piper thought it was a flock of birds, but then she realized it was much too big to be birds.

Two white pegasi and one black pegasus came in for a landing. The black one trotted over to Percy and nuzzled his face, then turned his head inquisitively toward Piper and Jason.

“Blackjack,” Percy said, “this is Piper and Jason. They’re friends.”

The horse nickered.

“Uh, maybe later,” Percy answered.

Piper had heard that Percy could speak to horses, being the son of the horse lord Poseidon, but she’d never seen it in action.

“What does Blackjack want?” she asked.

“Donuts,” Percy said. “Always donuts.” He shook his head fondly. “Anyway, those two are Guido and Porkpie. They can take us to the sign.”

Percy held Porkpie still as Piper climbed up. Jason had no trouble, flying up and settling on the pegasus Percy introduced at Guido. Once they were all set, Percy got on Blackjack’s back and they took off into the sky.

It was breathtaking. Piper had never really been comfortable with Jason’s storm spirit horse Tempest. Riding full gallop on a beast that could vaporize at any minute made her a bit nervous. But soaring through the skies on the back of a solid pegasus was amazing.

In no time at all, they arrived at the thirty-two-mile marker, which looked exactly as Piper had seen it in her vision.

The pegasi landed. They pawed at the asphalt and Blackjack whinnied.

“You’re right,” Percy said. “No sign of the wine dude.”

“I beg your pardon?” said a voice from the fields.

Porkpie turned so quickly, Piper almost fell off.

The wheat parted, and the man from her vision stepped into view. He wore a wide-brimmed hat wreathed in grapevines, a purple short-sleeved shirt, khaki shorts, and Birkenstocks with white socks. He looked maybe thirty, with a slight potbelly, like a frat boy who hadn’t yet realized college was over.

“Did someone just call me the wine dude?” he asked in a lazy drawl. “It’s Bacchus, please. Or Mr. Bacchus. Or Lord Bacchus. Or, sometimes, Oh-My-Gods-Please-Don’t-Kill-Me, Lord Bacchus.”

Percy urged Blackjack forward, though the pegasus didn’t seem happy about it.

“You look different,” Percy told the god. “Skinnier. Your hair is longer. And your shirt isn’t so loud.”

The wine god squinted up at him. “What in blazes are you talking about? Who are you, and where is Ceres?”

“Eating cereal,” Percy suggested.

Bacchus snorted. “I think she’d rather die. Ceres prefers  _ oatmeal _ . If you ask me, that’s why Proserpina fled to the Underworld early.”

Jason cleared his throat. “Lord Bacchus, do you remember me? I helped you with that missing leopard in Sonoma.”

Bacchus scratched his stubbly chin. “Ah… yes. John Green.”

“Jason Grace.”

“Whatever,” the god said. “Did Ceres send you, then?”

“No, Lord Bacchus,” Jason said. “Were you expecting to meet her here?”

The god snorted. “Well, I didn’t come to Kansas to party, my boy. Ceres asked me here for a council of war. What with Gaea rising, the crops are withering. Droughts are spreading. The karpoi are in revolt. Even my grapes aren’t safe. Ceres wanted a united front in the plant war.”

“The plant war,” Percy said. “You’re going to arm all the little grapes with tiny assault rifles?”

The god narrowed his eyes. “Have we met?”

“At Camp Half-Blood,” Percy said, “I know you as Mr. D—Dionysus.”

“Agh!” Bacchus winced and pressed his hands to his temples. For a moment, his image flickered. Piper saw a different person—fatter, dumpier, in a much louder, leopard-patterned shirt. Then Bacchus returned to being Bacchus. “Stop that!” he demanded. “Stop thinking about me in Greek!”

“Sorry,” Percy said.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to stay focused? Splitting headaches all the time! I never know what I’m doing or where I’m going! Constantly grumpy!”

“That sounds pretty normal for you,” Percy said.

The god’s nostrils flared. One of the grape leaves on his hat burst into flame. “If we know each other from that other camp, it’s a wonder I haven’t already turned you into a dolphin.”

“It was discussed,” Percy assured him. “I think you were just too lazy to do it.”

Piper had been watching with horrified fascination, the way she might watch a car wreck in progress. Now she realized Percy was not making things better, and Piper figured Annabeth would never forgive her if she brought Percy back transformed into a sea mammal.

“Lord Bacchus!” she interrupted, slipping off Porkpie’s back.

“Piper, careful,” Jason said.

She shot him a warning glance: _I’ve got this._

“Sorry to trouble you, my lord,” she told the god, “but actually we came here to get your advice. Please, we need your wisdom.” She used her most agreeable tone, pouring respect into her charmspeak.

The god frowned, but the purple glow faded in his eyes. “You’re well-spoken, girl. Advice, eh? Very well. I would avoid karaoke. Really, theme parties in general are out. In these austere times, people are looking for a simple, low-key affair, with locally produced organic snacks and—”

“Not about parties,” Piper interrupted. “Although that’s incredibly useful advice, Lord Bacchus. We were hoping you’d help us on our quest.”

She explained about the  _ Argo II _ and their voyage to stop the giants from awakening Gaea. She told him what Nemesis had said: that in six days, Rome would be destroyed. She described the vision reflected in her knife, where Bacchus offered her a silver goblet.

“Silver goblet?” The god didn’t sound very excited. He grabbed a Diet Pepsi from nowhere and popped the top of the can. “I have nothing for you to drink unless you want a Pepsi. Jupiter has put me under strict orders to avoid giving wine to minors. Bothersome, but there you have it. As for the giants, I know them well. I fought in the first Giant War, you know.”

“But you couldn’t keep them dead for good could you?” Percy muttered.

Dionysus snarled. His Diet Pepsi transformed into a five-foot staff wreathed in ivy, topped with a pinecone.

“A thyrsus!” Piper said, hoping to distract the god before he whacked Percy on the head. She’d seen weapons like that before in the hands of crazy nymphs, and wasn’t thrilled to see one again, but she tried to sound impressed. “Oh, what a mighty weapon!”

“Indeed,” Bacchus agreed. “I’m glad someone in your group is smart. The pinecone is a fearsome tool of destruction! I was a demigod myself in the first Giant War, you know. The son of Jupiter!”

Jason flinched. Probably he wasn’t thrilled to be reminded that the Wine Dude was technically his big brother.

Bacchus swung his staff through the air, though his potbelly almost threw him off balance. “Of course that was long before I invented wine and became an immortal. I fought side by side with the gods and some other demigod… Harry Cleese, I think.”

“Heracles?” Piper suggested politely.

“Whatever,” Bacchus said. “Anyway, I killed the giant Ephialtes and his brother Otis. Horrible bores, those two. Pinecone in the face for both of them!”

Piper held her breath. All at once, several ideas came together in her head—the visions in the knife, the lines of the prophecy they’d been discussing the night before. She felt like she used to when she was scuba diving with her father, and he would wipe her mask for her underwater. Suddenly, everything was clearer.

“Lord Bacchus,” she said, trying to control the nervousness in her voice. “Those two giants, Ephialtes and Otis… would they happen to be twins?”

“Hmm?” The god seemed distracted by his thyrsus-swinging, but he nodded. “Yes, twins. That’s right.”

Piper turned to Jason. She could tell he was following her thoughts:  _ Twins snuff out the angel’s breath. _ In the blade of Katoptris, she’d seen two giants in yellow robes, lifting a jar from a deep pit.

“That’s why we’re here,” Piper told the god. “You’re part of our quest!”

Bacchus frowned. “I’m sorry, my girl. I’m not a demigod anymore. I don’t do quests.”

“But giants can only be killed by heroes and gods working together,” she insisted. “You’re a god now, and the two giants we have to fight are Ephialtes and Otis. I think… I think they’re waiting for us in Rome. They’re going to destroy the city somehow. The silver goblet I saw in my vision—maybe it’s meant as a symbol for your help. You have to help us kill the giants!”

Bacchus glared at her, and Piper realized she’d chosen her words poorly.

“My girl,” he said coldly, “I don’t have to do anything. Besides, I only help those who give me proper tribute, which no one has managed to do in many, many centuries.”

Blackjack whinnied uneasily.

Piper couldn’t blame him. She didn’t like the sound of tribute. She remembered the maenads, the crazed followers of Bacchus, who would tear up nonbelievers with their bare hands. And that was when they were in a good mood.

Percy voiced the question that she was too scared to ask. “What kind of tribute?”

Bacchus waved his hand dismissively. “Nothing you could handle, insolent Greek. But I will give you some free advice, since this girl does have some manners. Seek out Gaea’s son, Phorcys. He always hated his mother, not that I can blame him. He didn’t have much use for his siblings, the twins, either. You’ll find him in the city they named after that heroine—Atalanta.”

Piper hesitated. “You mean Atlanta?”

“That’s the one.”

“But this Phorcys,” Jason said. “Is he a giant? A Titan?”

Bacchus laughed. “Neither. Seek out the salt water. If anyone can give you insight on Gaea and the twins, it’s Phorcys. Just watch out for him.”

“What do you mean?” Jason asked.

The god glanced at the sun, which had climbed almost to high noon. “It’s unlike Ceres to be late, unless she sensed something dangerous in this area. Or…” The god’s face suddenly went slack. “Or a trap. Well, I must be going! And if I were you, I’d do the same!”

“Lord Bacchus, wait!” Jason protested.

The god shimmered and disappeared with a sound like a soda-can top being popped.

The wind rustled through the sunflowers. The horses paced in agitation. Despite the dry, hot day, Piper shivered. A cold feeling…

“Bacchus is right,” she said. “We need to leave—”

_ Too late, _ said a sleepy voice, humming through the fields all around them and resonating in the ground at Piper’s feet.

Percy and Jason drew their swords. Piper stood on the road between them, frozen with fear. The power of Gaea was suddenly everywhere. The sunflowers turned to look at them. The wheat bent toward them like a million scythes.

_ Welcome to my party, _ Gaea murmured. Her voice reminded Piper of corn growing—a crackling, hissing, hot and persistent noise she used to hear at Grandpa Tom’s on those quiet nights in Oklahoma.

_ What did Bacchus say? _ the goddess mocked.  _ A simple, low-key affair with organic snacks? Yes. For my snacks, I need only two: the blood of a female demigod, and the blood of a male. Piper, my dear, choose which hero will die with you. _

“Gaea!” Jason yelled. “Stop hiding in the wheat. Show yourself!”

_ Such bravado, _ Gaea hissed. _ But the other one, Percy Jackson, also has appeal. Choose, Piper McLean, or I will. _

Piper’s heart raced. Gaea meant to kill her. That was no surprise. But what was this about choosing one of the boys? Why would Gaea let either of them go? It had to be a trap.

“You’re insane!” she shouted. “I’m not choosing anything for you!”

Suddenly Jason gasped. He sat up straight in his saddle.

“Jason!” Piper cried. “What’s wrong—?”

He looked down at her, his expression deadly calm. His eyes were no longer blue. They glowed solid gold.

“Percy, help!” Piper stumbled back from Guido.

“Oh this is not good,” Percy murmured. “Piper, get back!” He raised his sword, but his hand wavered. He would not attack Jason if he didn’t have to. Unfortunately, Piper didn’t think Percy would have a choice.

“One will die,” Jason said, but the voice wasn’t his. It was deep and hollow, like someone whispering from inside the barrel of a cannon. “If you will not choose, I will.”

“No!” Piper yelled.

All around her, the fields crackled and hissed, laughing in Gaea’s voice as Jason charged at Percy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So many people get up in arms about Piper calling Percy "unimpressive" but like think about it. She was exposed to all this stuff like "Percy's so great" or "Percy did this and that" and basically the whole camp was depressed when he was gone. Upon meeting him for real, she got a reality check like "oh actually, Percy is a real human being and not this god type figure that camp was talking about". She heard about this great hero who didn't have any faults and then they saw the human aspect of him and suddenly he's a normal guy. So I expanded on that a little in this story.
> 
> Also, since Alex was possessed and Leo was possessed, that leaves one eidolon and I chose Jason as the one it possesses. So Percy's free.


	11. I Don't Choose Who Lives and Who Dies (Piper XI)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> UPDATE 10/29/2020: Because I forgot Nico introduced Hazel to McDonalds in the first chapter of the Lost Hero... I have rectified that mistake.

IF NOT FOR THE HORSES, PIPER WOULD’VE DIED.

Jason charged toward Percy, but Guido balked long enough for Piper to leap out of the way. She rolled to the edge of the road and looked back, dazed and horrified, as the boys crossed swords, gold against bronze. Sparks flew. Their blades blurred—strike and parry—and the pavement trembled. The first exchange took only a second, but Piper couldn’t believe the speed of their sword fighting. Blackjack and Guido pulled away from each other, flapping their wings in protest.

“Stop it!” Piper yelled.

For a moment, Jason heeded her voice. His golden eyes turned toward her, and Percy charged, slamming the flat of his blade into Jason’s chest and knocking him from the pegasus.

“Stay back!” Percy called to the pegasi. He slid off Blackjack and whispered an order into the horse’s ear.

“Percy, what’s going on?” Piper shouted.

“You’ve got to stop him, Piper!” Percy yelled. “You can do it. You’re the only one who—”

Jason got to his feet and roared. A bolt of lightning arced out of the clear blue sky. It ricocheted off his gladius and blasted Percy backward past Blackjack. Blackjack whinnied and fled into the wheat fields. Jason charged at Percy, who was now on his back, his clothes smoking from the lightning blast.

For a horrible moment, Piper couldn’t find her voice. Gaea seemed to be whispering to her: _You must choose one. Why not let Jason kill him?_

“No!” she screamed. “Jason, stop!”

He froze, his sword six inches from Percy’s face.

Jason turned, the gold light in his eyes flickering uncertainly. “I cannot stop. One must die.”

Something about that voice… it wasn’t Gaea. It wasn’t Jason. Whoever it was spoke haltingly, as if English was its second language.

“Who are you?” Piper demanded.

Jason’s mouth twisted in a gruesome smile. “We are the eidolons. We will live again.”

“Eidolons…?” Piper’s mind raced. She’d studied all sorts of monsters at Camp Half-Blood, but that term wasn’t familiar. “You’re—you’re some sort of ghost?”

“He must die.” Jason turned his attention back to Percy, but Percy had recovered more than either of them realized. He swept out his leg and knocked Jason off his feet.

Jason’s head hit the asphalt with a nauseating conk.

Percy rose. He kept his sword trained on Jason, but he backed up.

“You okay?” he called to Piper.

“Fine,” she said. “A little shaken up. What was that? Eidolons?”

Percy grimaced in disgust. “Probably the thing that made Leo attack New Rome.”

Piper hedged towards Jason’s unconscious form. “We need to get him back to the ship.”

“Right.” Percy let out a piercing taxi-cab whistle. Guido swooped down from the sky. “Piper, you’ll have to ride with Jason. Make sure he doesn’t fall. Blackjack!”

The black pegasus trotted out of the wheat fields.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Percy told him. “It’s weird though. I don’t understand…” he trailed off shaking his head. “Whatever. We need to get out of here.”

As Percy turned towards Piper to help her lift Jason onto Guido’s back, Piper was hit with a memory.

_“Stop it!” she screamed without charmspeak in her voice. “Eidolon, stop,” she commanded, this time pouring in the charmspeak._

_Percy froze with his blade over Jason’s chest._

_“Face me,” Piper ordered._

_Percy turned. His eyes were gold instead of green. “You have not chosen,” he said. “So this one will die.”_

_“You’re a spirit from the Underworld,” Piper guessed. “You’re possessing Percy Jackson. Is that it?”_

_Percy sneered. “I will live again in this body. The Earth Mother has promised. I will go where I please, control whom I wish.”_

_“Leo… that’s what happened to Leo. He was being controlled by an eidolon.”_

_“Too late you realize,” Percy laughed. “You can trust no one.”_

_Jason lay unmoving at Percy’s feet. Piper couldn’t protect him. But behind Percy, she saw the tip of a black wing. Percy began to turn at the sound it made._

_“Ignore it!” she yelped. “Look at me.”_

_Percy obeyed. “You cannot stop me. I will kill Jason Grace.”_

_Behind him, Blackjack emerged from the wheat field, moving with surprising stealth for such a large animal._

_“You won’t kill him,” Piper ordered, looking at the horse. “You will knock him out.”_

_Percy shifted his weight indecisively. “I… will knock him out?”_

_“Oh, sorry,” Piper smiled. “I wasn’t talking to you.”_

_Blackjack reared and brought his hoof down on Percy’s head. Percy crumpled to the pavement next to Jason._

“Piper!” Percy said, jarring her from her thoughts.

“What?” Piper asked in a panic. “What’s going on? Percy? You… you’re okay?”

Percy gave her an odd look. “Uh, yeah? Are you? You zoned out for a minute.”

Piper glanced around. Everything was different, yet so much the same as what she’d seen in her memories. If you could call that a memory since she didn’t remember it ever happening.

“I’m fine,” Piper said. “Let’s just get back to the ship.”

* * *

The others were a little surprised when Percy and Piper came back on pegasi with an unconscious Jason.

While Frank and Hazel tended to Blackjack, Guido, and Porkpie, Percy and Piper carried Jason to the sickbay where Magnus and Coach Hedge were waiting.

“At this rate, we’re going to run out of ambrosia,” Coach Hedge grumbled as he tended Piper’s wounds. “How come I never get invited on these violent trips?”

Magnus had his hand on Jason’s forehead. It glowed slightly and not for the first time did Piper think that Magnus might be a son of Apollo. He certainly looked the part.

“It’s not too bad,” he told them. “I can heal it. Again.”

Piper sat at Jason’s side. Coach had cleaned her scraped knees and hands. She herself felt fine after a swig of nectar and some water, but she was still worried about her friend.

“Leo,” Piper said, “are we ready to sail?”

“Yeah, but—”

“Set course for Atlanta. I’ll explain later.”

“But… okay.” He hurried off.

“Wait, no,” Percy protested. “Do we really have to go to Atlanta?” He yawned. “Stupid curse thingy,” he murmured.

Annabeth gave him a sharp look. “Curse?”

“Oh.” Percy looked surprised. “I forgot to tell you. The Achilles Curse. I still have it. Nico got all mad at Juno for trying to make me get rid of it.”

“Achilles Curse?” Piper repeated. “Like, Achilles the Greek hero? The guy with the vulnerable heel?”

Percy nodded. “Yeah. My skin is invulnerable except one spot. Uh,” he hesitated. “It’s… well, it’s not something I advertise.” He pulled at his cut up shirt. “I guess Jason got me a few times, but… mostly it just ruined my shirt. The worst thing that happens is I get tired easily.” He yawned again. “I’ll take a nap later.”

Within a few minutes, Jason was sitting up and able to talk in complete sentences. He had fuzzy memories of what had happened. When Piper described the duel on the highway, Jason winced.

“Knocked out twice in two days,” he muttered. “Some demigod.” He glanced sheepishly at Percy. “Sorry, man. I didn’t mean to blast you.”

Percy’s shirt was peppered with burn holes. His hair was even more disheveled than normal. Despite that, he managed a weak laugh. “Not the first time. Your big sister got me good once at camp.”

“Yeah, but… I could have killed you.”

“Sorry, no,” Percy said. “I’m invulnerable. Achilles Curse.” His face brightened. “Wait. Annabeth, do you think I can still—”

“I wouldn’t take your chances,” Annabeth said without letting him finish. “Now. I’m sure you would have been wonderful at killing each other, but you both should get some rest.”

“Food first,” Percy said. “Please?”

Jason grunted. “And we need to talk. Bacchus said some things we need to discuss.”

Annabeth raised her hand. “Okay, fine. We need to talk. Mess hall. Ten minutes. I’ll tell the others. And please, Percy… change your clothes. You smell like you’ve been run through a storm cloud.”

* * *

Leo gave the helm to Coach Hedge again, after making the satyr promise he would not steer them to the nearest military base “for fun.”

They gathered around the dining table, and Piper explained what had happened at TOPEKA 32—their conversation with Bacchus, the trap sprung by Gaea, the eidolons that had possessed the boys.

“Of course!” Hazel slapped the table, which startled Frank so much, he dropped his burrito. “That’s what happened to Leo too.”

“So it wasn’t my fault.” Leo exhaled. “I didn’t start World War Three. I just got possessed by an evil spirit. That’s a relief!”

“But the Romans don’t know that,” Annabeth said. “And why would they take our word for it?”

“We could contact Reyna,” Jason suggested. “She would believe us.”

“Unlikely,” Annabeth said.

Piper nodded. “She’s right. Even if we could convince Reyna, it’s Octavian we have to worry about. In my dagger blade, I saw him taking control of the Roman crowd. I’m not sure Reyna can stop him.”

Jason’s expression darkened. Piper didn’t get any pleasure from bursting his bubble, but the other Romans—Hazel and Frank—nodded in agreement.

“She’s right,” Frank said. “This afternoon when we were scouting, we saw eagles again. They were a long way off, but closing fast. Octavian is on the warpath.”

Hazel grimaced. “This is exactly the sort of opportunity Octavian has always wanted. He’ll try to seize power. If Reyna objects, he’ll say she’s soft on the Greeks. As for those eagles… It’s like they could smell us.”

“They can,” Jason said. “Roman eagles can hunt demigods by their magical scent even better than monsters can. This ship might conceal us somewhat, but not completely—not from them.”

Leo drummed his fingers. “Great. I should have installed a smoke screen that makes the ship smell like a giant chicken nugget. Remind me to invent that, next time.”

"Nico likes chicken nuggets from McDonalds," Hazel recalled. "They were okay, but why would you want the ship to smell like one?"

Leo shook his head in amazement. "Oh, my young apprentice. Chicken nuggets are _just okay?_ I don't even know what to say to that."

“Doesn’t matter,” Annabeth interrupted. “The point is, we’ll have a hard time explaining the truth to the Romans. Even if they believe us—”

“You’re right.” Jason leaned forward. “We should just keep going. Once we’re over the Atlantic, we’ll be safe—at least from the legion.”

He sounded so depressed, Piper didn’t know whether to feel sorry for him or resentful. “How can you be sure?” she asked. “Why wouldn’t they follow us?”

Jason shook his head. “You heard Reyna talking about the ancient lands. They’re much too dangerous. Roman demigods have been forbidden to go there for generations. Even Octavian couldn’t get around that rule.”

Frank swallowed a bite of burrito like it had turned to cardboard in his mouth. “So, if we go there…”

“We’ll be outlaws as well as traitors,” Jason confirmed. “Any Roman demigod would have the right to kill us on sight. But I wouldn’t worry about that. If we get across the Atlantic, they’ll give up on chasing us. They’ll assume that we’ll die in the Mediterranean—the Mare Nostrum.”

Percy pointed his pizza slice at Jason. “You, sir, are a ray of sunshine.”

Jason didn’t argue. The other demigods stared at their plates, except for Percy, who continued to enjoy his pizza. Where he put all that food, Piper didn’t know. The guy could eat like a satyr.

“So,” Magnus said awkwardly. “I’m guessing we don’t have time to stop by New York to drop Alex and I off at Camp Half-Blood?”

Annabeth let out a nervous laugh. “No. No, we don’t. You may not be part of the Seven, but you will have a part to play. There’s a reason Percy found you in Alaska. Now, the giants.”

“Otis and Ephialtes,” Percy said. “They’re the twins in Ella’s prophecy.”

Annabeth ran her finger along the rim of her cup. “They tried to reach Mount Olympus by piling a much of mountains. Didn’t work.”

Frank nearly choked. “Well, that’s great. Giants who can use mountains like building blocks. And you say Bacchus killed these guys with a pinecone on a stick?”

“Something like that,” Percy said. “But if we want his help, we need a tribute, and he made it pretty clear it would be a tribute we can’t handle.”

Silence fell around the table. Piper could hear Coach Hedge above deck singing “Blow the Man Down,” except he didn’t know the lyrics, so he mostly sang, “Blah-blah-hum-de-dum-dum.”

Piper couldn’t shake the feeling that Bacchus was meant to help them. The giant twins were in Rome. They were keeping something the demigods needed—something in that bronze jar. Whatever it was, she got the feeling it held the answer to sealing the Doors of Death—the key to endless death. She also felt sure they could never defeat the giants without Bacchus’s help. And if they couldn’t do that in five days, Rome would be destroyed, and Hazel’s brother, Nico, would die.

On the other hand, if the vision of Bacchus offering her a silver goblet was false, maybe the other visions didn’t have to come true either—especially the one of her, Percy, Magnus, and Jason drowning. Maybe that was just symbolic.

 _The blood of a female demigod,_ Gaea had said, _and the blood of a male. Piper, my dear, choose which hero will die with you_.

“She wants two of us,” Piper murmured.

Everyone turned to look at her.

Piper hated being the center of attention. Maybe that was strange for a child of Aphrodite, but she’d watched her dad, the movie star, deal with fame for years. She remembered when Aphrodite had claimed her at the bonfire in front of the entire camp, zapping her with a magic beauty-queen makeover. That had been the most embarrassing moment of her life. Even here, with only six other demigods, Piper felt exposed.

 _They’re my friends,_ she told herself. _It’s okay._

But she had a strange feeling… as if more than six sets of eyes were watching her.

“Today on the highway,” she said, “Gaea told me that she needed the blood of only two demigods—one female, one male. She—she asked me to choose which boy would die.”

Jason squeezed her hand. “But neither of us died. You saved us.”

“I know. It’s just… Why would she want that?”

Leo whistled softly. “Guys, remember at the Wolf House? Our favorite ice princess, Khione? She talked about spilling Jason’s blood, how it would taint the place for generations. Maybe demigod blood has some kind of power.” He frowned. “Said something about you two,” he added, looking at Magnus and Alex. “Something spawn. Non fry or something like that.”

“Oh…” Percy set down his third pizza slice. He leaned back and stared at nothing. Piper couldn’t tell if he was trying to change the attention from Magnus and Alex to himself or if he was actually realizing something.

“Percy?” Annabeth asked.

“You guys remember Polybotes?” he asked Frank and Hazel.

“The giant who invaded Camp Jupiter,” Hazel said. “The anti-Poseidon you whacked in the head with a Terminus statue. Yes, I think I remember.”

“I had a dream,” Percy said, “when we were flying to Alaska. Polybotes was talking to the gorgons, and he said—he said he wanted me taken prisoner, not killed. He said: ‘I want that one chained at my feet, so I can kill him when the time is ripe. His blood shall water the stones of Mount Olympus and wake Earth Mother!’”

Piper wondered if the room’s temperature controls were broken, because suddenly she couldn’t stop shaking. It was the same way she’d felt on the highway outside Topeka. “You think the giants would use our blood… the blood of two of us—”

“Yes,” Percy said. “Which means no getting captured.”

Jason grunted. “That I agree with.”

“But how do we figure it out?” Hazel asked. “The Mark of Athena, the twins, Ella’s prophecy… how does it all fit together?”

Annabeth pressed her hands against the edge of the table. “Piper, you told Leo to set our course for Atlanta.”

“Right,” Piper said. “Bacchus told us we should seek out… what was his name?”

“Phorcys,” Percy said sourly. “And again, I ask. Do we have to?”

“What do you have against Porky whatever?” Alex asked.

Percy snorted. “That’s hilarious. But Phorcys and his sister Keto? They supported the Titans last summer. The gods sent them to Atlanta as punishment. It’s landlocked and they’re both sea gods.” He sighed. “If anyone has reason to be bitter and help Gaea, it’s them.”

Leo looked at Annabeth. “We should reach Atlanta by noon tomorrow. Unless you want me to change course.”

Annabeth hesitated. “Bacchus said he can give us insight about the twins?”

“Yeah, but do we really need it?” Percy asked. “I mean, we have days to rescue Nico. Shouldn’t we be more focused on finding him than going after sea gods that might try to kill us?”

“It’s a risk we have to take,” Annabeth said. “What if Phorcys can give us information we all need?” Something seemed to pass between her and Percy as she said that.

Percy’s shoulders slumped. “You’re right. Of course you are.”

Leo clasped his hands together. “Great. We’ll be in Atlanta noon tomorrow, unless something else goes wrong.”

“Dude!” Alex said exasperatedly. “Why would you say that?”

“Agreed,” Annabeth muttered, shaking her head. “It’s getting late. We should all get some sleep.”

“Wait,” Piper said.

Once more, everyone looked at her.

She was rapidly losing her courage, wondering if her instincts were wrong, but she forced herself to speak.

“There’s one last thing,” she said. “The eidolons—the possessing spirits. They’re still here, in this room.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so mad because I can't remember what Percy was asking about when he said "Annabeth, do you think I can still—" I'm running every possible answer I can think of, but I don't know.


	12. There's Something Strange About My Friends and It's Not the Eidolons (Piper XII)

PIPER COULDN’T EXPLAIN HOW SHE KNEW.

Stories of phantoms and tortured souls had always freaked her out. Her dad used to joke about Grandpa Tom’s Cherokee legends from back on the rez, but even at home in their big Malibu mansion, looking out over the Pacific, whenever her dad recounted the ghost stories for her, she could never get them out of her head.

Cherokee spirits were always restless. They often lost their way to the Land of the Dead, or stayed behind with the living out of sheer stubbornness. Sometimes they didn’t even realize they were dead. The more Piper learned about being a demigod, the more convinced she was that Cherokee legends and Greek myths weren’t so different. These eidolons acted a lot like the spirits in her dad’s stories.

Piper had a gut sense they were still present, simply because no one had told them to go away. When she was done explaining, the others looked at her uncomfortably. Up on deck, Hedge sang something that sounded like “In the Navy” while Blackjack stomped his hooves, whinnying in protest.

Finally Hazel exhaled. “Piper is right.”

“What?” Magnus yelped. “Those… possessing things are here? The ship is haunted?”

“Are you sure?” Jason asked.

“I’ve met eidolons,” Hazel said. “In the Underworld, when I was… you know.”

_ Dead. _

Piper had forgotten that Hazel was a second-timer. In her own way, Hazel too was a ghost reborn.

“So…” Frank rubbed his hand across his buzz-cut hair as if some ghosts might have invaded his scalp. “You think these things are lurking on the ship, or—”

“Possibly lurking inside some of us,” Piper said. “We don’t know.”

Jason clenched his fist. “If that’s true—”

“If it’s still in  _ me _ , get it out!” Alex said. “I don’t... I  _ won’t _ be out of control of my own body.”

“We have to take steps,” Piper said. “I think I can do this.”

“You think?” Magnus repeated.

“Just listen, okay?” Piper took a deep breath. “Everybody listen.”

Piper met their eyes, one person at a time.

“Eidolons,” she said, using her charmspeak, “raise your hands.”

There was tense silence.

Leo laughed nervously. “Did you really think that was going to—?”

His voice died. His face went slack. He raised his hand.

Jason and Alex did the same. Their eyes had turned glassy and gold. Hazel caught her breath.

Next to Leo, Frank scrambled out of his chair and put his back against the wall.

“Oh my god,” Magnus said, jaw dropped. “We have to fix this! What do we do?”

Piper wanted to whimper and hide under the table, but she had to help her friends. She took a deep breath and set her shoulders. She focused on Leo because he was the least intimidating.

“Are there more of you on this ship?” she asked.

“No,” Leo said in a hollow voice. “The Earth Mother sent three. The strongest, the best. We will live again.”

“Not here, you won’t,” Piper growled. “All three of you, listen carefully.”

Jason and Alex turned toward her. Those gold eyes were unnerving, but seeing them like that fueled Piper’s anger.

“You will leave those bodies,” she commanded.

“No,” Alex said.

Leo let out a soft hiss. “We must live.”

Frank fumbled for his bow. “Mars Almighty, that’s creepy! Get out of here, spirits! Leave our friends alone!”

Leo turned toward him. “You cannot command us, child of war. Your own life is fragile. Your soul could burn at any moment.”

Piper wasn’t sure what that meant, but Frank staggered like he’d been punched in the gut. He drew an arrow, his hands shaking. “I—I’ve faced down worse things than you. If you want a fight—”

“Frank, don’t.” Hazel rose.

Next to her, Jason drew his sword.

“Stop!” Piper ordered, but her voice quavered. She was rapidly losing faith in her plan. She’d made the eidolons appear, but what now? If she couldn’t persuade them to leave, any bloodshed would be her fault. In the back of her mind, she could almost hear Gaea laughing.

“Listen to Piper.” Hazel pointed at Jason’s sword. The gold blade seemed to grow heavy in his hand. It clunked to the table and Jason sank back into his chair.

Alex growled. “Daughter of Pluto, you may control gems and metals. You do not control the dead.”

Magnus choked on air.

“Listen, eidolons,” Hazel said sternly, “you do not belong here. I may not command you, but Piper does. Obey her.” She turned toward Piper, her expression clear:  _ Try again. You can do this. _

Piper mustered all her courage. She looked straight at Jason—straight into the eyes of the thing that was controlling him. “You will leave those bodies,” Piper repeated, even more forcefully.

Jason’s face tightened. His forehead beaded with sweat. “We—we will leave these bodies.”

“You will vow on the River Styx never to return to this ship,” Piper continued, “and never to possess any member of this crew.”

Leo and Alex both hissed in protest.

“You will promise on the River Styx,” Piper insisted.

A moment of tension—she could feel their wills fighting against hers. Then all three eidolons spoke in unison: “We promise on the River Styx.”

“You are dead,” Piper said.

“We are dead,” they agreed.

“Now, leave.”

All three slumped forward.

Alex crumpled to the ground.

“Alex!” Magnus yelped, catching her shoulders.

Piper and Hazel caught Jason’s arms as he slipped out of his chair.

Leo wasn’t so lucky. He fell toward Frank, who made no attempt to intercept him. Leo hit the floor.

“Ow!” he groaned.

“Are you all right?” Hazel asked.

Leo pulled himself up. He had a piece of spaghetti in the shape of a 3 stuck to his forehead. “Did it work?”

“It worked,” Piper said, feeling pretty sure she was right. “I don’t think they’ll be back.”

Alex let out a breath. “Thank Odin for that.” She froze, eyes wide.

Piper narrowed her eyes. “Who?”

“Nothing,” Alex brushed off. “Just had that stupid  _ Thor  _ movie on my mind.”

Annabeth laughed nervously. “Oh yeah. Hey, Magnus, you should be Thor for Halloween. You’ve got the blonde hair style for it.”

Piper wasn’t an idiot. Some of her siblings—not  _ all _ of them as Silena pointed out, but some of them—might be content to be airheads, but Piper was not. She actually liked to learn about different cultures and more often than not, that was the only way she could spend time with her dad.

There had been an offer for a background role in  _ Thor _ . Tristan had considered it enough to the point that he and Piper had spent time reading about the Norse myths and even purchasing quite the collection of comic books. Her dad had turned it down when a larger role had come up though. But Piper still remembered what they  _ had _ read. Odin was the All Father and one of the Aesir gods.

Leo’s words from earlier rang in her mind.

_ “Guys, remember at the Wolf House? Our favorite ice princess, Khione? She talked about spilling Jason’s blood, how it would taint the place for generations. Maybe demigod blood has some kind of power.” He frowned. “Said something about you two,” he added, looking at Magnus and Alex. “Something spawn. Non fry or something like that.” _

If Piper remembered correctly—and she wasn’t sure she did, that day in the Wolf House was awfully fuzzy—Khione had said  _ Vanir spawn _ .

Vanir and Aesir were the two groups of Norse gods. Which meant that if Khione called Magnus by Vanir spawn…

“Oh. My. Gods.” Piper stared at Magnus and Alex. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it until now!”

Magnus glanced at Annabeth out of the corner of his eyes, then back to Piper. “Um, what? The movie? Because I have to tell you—OW!” he said, glaring at Alex who’d elbowed him. “What was that for?”

Piper seriously couldn’t believe it. All the evidence was there once she made the connection. If the Greek gods existed, and the Roman gods existed, why couldn’t other gods exist too? She’d made connections between Greek myths and Cherokee myths. Was the Norse gods’ existence too far of a stretch?

“Vanir spawn,” Piper said, looking at Magnus. “At the Wolf House, Khione called you Vanir spawn. And… Nkonfréi?”

Annabeth’s face was pale. “That’s Greek for Godfrey.”

Piper watched Magnus and Alex for a reaction. “Godfrey. Frey is one of the Vanir, isn’t he? A Norse god. You’re not Greek or Roman. You’re Norse.”

Silence.

Jason broke it with a groan. “I don’t mind another head injury right now.”

“Norse?” Hazel repeated. She glanced between Magnus and Alex. “You’re Norse demigods? I… I don’t understand. Percy said… Annabeth said… I thought you were at the  _ Greek _ camp?”

“They were,” Percy defended them. “They came to Camp Half-Blood with us years ago.”

“You both knew they were Norse,” Piper said.

Annabeth looked at the table. “Yes. But it wasn’t our secret to tell. And you saw how the Romans and Greeks were together. If you knew Norse gods existed… it wasn’t the right time for anyone to know.”

The confirmation hurt more than Piper wanted it to. For months she thought Annabeth was her friend. Piper had talked with her about what to do about her relationship with Jason. Piper hadn’t held  _ anything _ back.

“You didn’t trust us not to attack the Norse camp then?” Piper said, hurt.

“No!” Annabeth said. “That’s not why, Piper! I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t!”

“Don’t blame her,” Alex said softly. “We probably should have come clean after the Titan war, but… it’s worrying. Our worlds aren’t supposed to mix. Mixing the Greek and Roman’s blew up in our faces, quite literally.”

Frank and Hazel weren’t saying anything. They seemed to be trying to take in the reality of the situation silently. Jason’s expression was calm and collected, but Piper knew that was just his leader mask. Leo was the only one who looked mildly excited.

“So… who are your parents then?” Leo asked. “Thor? The guy with the lightning? Wow, you could have a contest with Jason. He’s got the lightning thing—”

“Leo!” Piper snapped.

“It’s fine,” Magnus said. He gave Piper a half smile. “Frey’s my dad. God of peace, fertility, wealth, rain, summer, and sunshine.”

Alex didn’t look very happy. Her arms were crossed and she was scowling. “My mom’s Loki, okay? God of mischief and lies and overall bad things.”

Frank stared at her. “Your  _ mom _ is Loki? Like, Thor’s brother?”

Alex opened her mouth—probably to shout at him—but Piper intervened.

“In the myths, Loki is Odin’s brother,” she corrected. “And he’s genderfluid like Alex. He’s also a shapeshifter. I, uh, read a little when my dad was considering a role,” she said when everyone’s eyes turned to her.

“Well, that’s true,” Alex said, looking pleased. “Loki’s got a history of taking on male and female appearances. Look, if you’re worried I’m going to turn evil or something, I’m not. I don’t like my mother, I never have and I never will. He’s the one Percy rescued Magnus and I from in Alaska.”

“I think we just need some time to process this,” Jason said diplomatically.

Piper stood up. “Fresh air. I need fresh air.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jason volunteered quickly. He stood up and wobbled.

Piper wrapped Jason’s arm over her shoulders to support him. Together they hobbled out onto the deck. As they left, Piper heard Hazel say, “Maybe we should all take a few minutes.”

* * *

Leo stood at the helm, conferring with Festus through the intercom. Since the satellite TV was up again, Coach Hedge was in his cabin happily catching up on his mixed martial arts cage marches. Piper didn’t know where Frank or Hazel were, but she assumed they were talking about the recent revelation.

The  _ Argo II _ raced east, cruising several hundred feet above the ground. Below them small towns passed by like lit-up islands in a dark sea of prairie. The night was warm. The ship sailed along more smoothly than a dragon. Best of all, they were flying away from Camp Jupiter as fast as they possibly could. No matter how dangerous the ancient lands were, Piper couldn’t wait to get there. She hoped Jason was right that the Romans wouldn’t follow them across the Atlantic.

Jason stopped amidships and leaned against the rail. The moonlight turned his blond hair silver.

“Thanks, Pipes,” he said. “You saved me again.”

Piper appreciated his attempts to talk about the good things—it was crazy the run in with the eidolons could be  _ considered _ a good thing—but nothing could take her mind off what she just found out.

“You don’t seem very surprised about Magnus and Alex,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as accusatory as the statement felt.

Jason’s smile faded. “Well, why not, right? Greek gods, Roman gods, why not Norse gods too?”

“But that’s not the same,” Piper protested. “The gods started Greek and then when Rome took over, they just adopted a second personality. They’re literally the same gods. Norse gods are entirely different gods! And that’s not even the point! How are we supposed to trust people who don’t trust us? Do you really think we would have found out about Magnus and Alex if I didn’t make the connection? Because I think Percy and Annabeth would have just kept their mouths shut the whole time. I thought Annabeth  _ trusted _ me.  _ I  _ trusted  _ her! _ I would have told her if I was in her position.” She couldn’t stop now. “And I want to be worried about what happened with you and Percy and Gaea, but I can’t right now because I feel like I’ve been played.”

Jason looked at her. “What do you mean? You stopped me from doing something bad.”

“But I almost let you,” Piper said. “When Gaea said I had to choose, I hesitated and…” She blinked, cursing herself for crying.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Jason said. “You saved us both.”

“But if two of our crew really have to die, a boy and a girl—”

“I don’t accept that. We’re going to stop Gaea. All seven of us are going to come back alive. I promise you.”

Piper wished that he hadn’t promised. The word reminded her of the Prophecy of Seven:  _ an oath to keep with a final breath _ . An explosion in the sky burned in her mind. She blinked it away.

“Jason,” she said hesitantly. “I… I don’t think Magnus or Alex is supposed to be here.”

Jason frowned. “I know you’re upset, Pipes, but I don’t think Annabeth could have done anything different. It wasn’t good when Greek and Romans mixed, well, it went well until the eidolons messed it up, but maybe that was just Fate. Either way, Alex is right about mythologies mixing. It’s dangerous.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Piper said. “I don’t think they’re  _ supposed _ to be here. Not right now. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’ve been having these weird deja vu moments. I see things happening differently than they have and I see things that I don’t remember.” She bit her lip. “Do you think Hera’s messing with me?”

Jason went stiff next to her. He looked out over the passing scenery below. “I don’t think that’s it. Her plan failed. Leo said Nemesis told them that Hera’s on the run from the gods and she can’t help us. I don’t think she can mess with us if she doesn’t have time to help us.” He paused. “The things you see… what are they about?”

“I saw you and Percy fighting,” Piper whispered. “Percy was possessed by an eidolon too. And I saw a huge explosion in the sky.”

Jason gripped the railing. “An explosion?”

“Yeah, why? Jason, what’s wrong?”

He let out a breath. “I’ve been having dreams. Not normal dreams. It’s mostly flashes of these memories that aren’t mine, but are mine. I thought I was going crazy, but if you say you’re having similar things… I’ve seen an explosion too. My dream is always the same. You and me falling away from Leo and Festus. There’s an explosion in the sky, but then I’m on a boat and the explosion had just split the boat open. I’m fighting some guy and then I look at someone else and shout something at him. The guy I’m fighting… he kills me.”

Piper’s heat stopped. “Kills you?”

“Yeah.” Jason shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. I don’t know where any of it is coming from. I kept putting off telling Annabeth, but now I think we should tell the others tomorrow.”

“What?” Piper asked incredulously. “After everything that’s happened, you want to just tell  _ everyone _ ?”

“What choice do we have?” Jason asked. “If we’re experiencing this, it must mean something and maybe the others know what it means!”

Piper pursed her lips. “You’re right. I just… I don’t think I can forgive them as easily as you.”

“You don’t have to,” Jason said. “Just try to work with them. You have to do that much. We’re stuck on a boat with them for a while.”

“Fair enough,” Piper said. “Thank you. For not pushing me. For respecting that I need time.”

Jason smiled at her. “Of course. I think we’re all a little emotional about it. In the morning, you’ll see. Maybe I’ll be the one panicking and you’ll be the one calming me down.”

“Maybe,” Piper said, smiling back.

She looked over the side of the ship, spirits lifted, but the sight of the prairie at night looked like dark water—like the drowning room she’d seen in the blade of her knife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. The Norse cat's out of the bag now. Coincidentally, I'm contemplating what to do about telling the others about the time travel thing. Not sure when it'll happen, but I'm curious to know how much you guys think they should tell the others if/when they tell them about time travel. The whole picture or just "hey we're from the future, we'll keep you posted about things as they come up"? Or something in between?


	13. Annabeth Breaks the Rules Part Two (Percy XIII)

FORGET THE CHICKEN-NUGGET SMOKE SCREEN. Percy wanted Leo to invent an anti-dream hat.

That night he had horrible nightmares. First he dreamed he was back in Alaska on the quest to free Thanatos. He was hiking along a mountain road, but as soon as he stepped off the shoulder he was swallowed by the bog—muskeg, Hazel had called it. He found himself choking in mud, unable to move or see or breathe. For the first time in his life—and the second time for that matter—he understood what it was like to drown.

_ It’s just a dream, _ he told himself.  _ I’ll wake up. _

But that didn’t make it any less terrifying.

Percy had never been scared of water before the first time in the muskeg. Water was his father’s element. But after that first muskeg experience, he’d developed a fear of suffocation. It made him nervous to go in the water. And yeah, by the time Annabeth had asked him to help Magnus with preparing for his sea adventure to stop Ragnarok, he’d kind of gotten over the fear of drowning. But being back in Alaska and almost drowning in the muskeg  _ again _ ? That didn’t do anything except bring back that fear.

It was silly. He couldn’t drown. He  _ knew _ he  _ wouldn’t _ drown. He knew he’d get over the fear, but all the same, it was there. He thought about the upcoming Atlanta visit and what would be coming with that. He had to get this fear under control because if he didn’t, it would start controlling him.

He thought about his friend Thalia, who was scared of heights even though she was the daughter of the sky god. Her brother, Jason, could fly by summoning the winds. Thalia couldn’t, maybe because she was too afraid to try. If Percy started to believe he could drown…

The muskeg pressed against his chest. His lungs wanted to burst.

_ Stop panicking, _ he told himself.  _ This isn’t real. _

Just when he couldn’t hold his breath any longer, the dream changed.

He stood in a vast gloomy space like an underground parking garage. Rows of stone pillars marched off in every direction, holding up the ceiling about twenty feet above. Freestanding braziers cast a dim red glow over the floor.

Percy couldn’t see very far in the shadows, but hanging from the ceiling were pulley systems, sandbags, and rows of dark theater lights. Piled around the chamber, wooden crates were labeled PROPS, WEAPONS, and COSTUMES. One read: ASSORTED ROCKET LAUNCHERS. Percy heard machinery creaking in the darkness, huge gears turning, and water rushing through pipes.

_ Great, _ he thought.  _ Trading one nightmare for another. _

Then he saw the giant. Ephialtes.

He was about twelve feet tall and he looked more human than a typical giant, without the dragon-like legs of his larger kin. Nevertheless, his long purple hair was braided in a ponytail of dreadlocks, woven with gold and silver coins, which Percy recognized as coins taken from Athena’s kids. His blood boiled at that.

The giant had a ten-foot spear strapped to his back—a giantish weapon. He wore the largest black turtleneck Percy had ever seen, black pants, and black leather shoes with points so long and curly, they might have been jester slippers. He paced back and forth in front of a raised platform, examining a bronze jar about the size of Percy.

_ Nico, _ Percy thought.

“No, no, no,” the giant muttered to himself. “Where’s the splash? Where’s the value?” He yelled into the darkness, “Otis!”

Percy heard something shuffling in the distance. Another giant appeared out of the gloom. He wore exactly the same black outfit, right down to the curly shoes. The only difference between the two giants was that the second one’s hair was green rather than purple.

Ephialtes cursed. “Otis, why do you do this to me every day? I told you I was wearing the black turtleneck today. You could wear anything but the black turtleneck!”

Otis blinked as if he’d just woken up. “I thought you were wearing the yellow toga today.”

“That was yesterday! When you showed up in the yellow toga!”

“Oh. Right. Sorry, Ephie.”

Ephialtes snarled. “And don’t call me Ephie,” he demanded. “Call me Ephialtes. That’s my name. Or you can use my stage name: The BIG F!”

Otis grimaced. “I’m still not sure about that stage name.”

“Nonsense! It’s perfect. Now, how are the preparations coming along?”

“Fine.” Otis didn’t sound very enthusiastic. “The man-eating tigers, the spinning blades… But I still think a few ballerinas would be nice.”

“No ballerinas!” Ephialtes snapped. “And this thing.” He waved at the bronze jar in disgust. “What does it do? It’s not exciting.”

“But that’s the whole point of the show. He dies unless the others rescue him. And if they arrive on schedule—”

“Oh, they’d better!” Ephialtes said. “July First, the Kalends of July, sacred to Juno. That’s when Mother wants to destroy those stupid demigods and really rub it in Juno’s face. Besides, I’m not paying overtime for those gladiator ghosts!”

“Well, then, they all die,” Otis said, “and we start the destruction of Rome. Just like Mother wants. It’ll be perfect. The crowd will love it. Roman ghosts adore this sort of thing.”

Ephialtes looked unconvinced. “But the jar just stands there. Couldn’t we suspend it above a fire, or dissolve it in a pool of acid or something?”

“We need him alive for a few more days,” Otis reminded his brother. “Otherwise, the seven won’t take the bait and rush to save him.”

“Hmm. I suppose. I’d still like a little more screaming. This slow death is boring. Ah, well, what about our talented friend? Is she ready to receive her visitor?”

Otis made a sour face. “I really don’t like talking to her. She makes me nervous.”

_ Good! _ Percy wanted to scream.

“But is she ready?”

“Yes,” Otis said reluctantly. “She’s been ready for centuries. No one will be removing that statue.”

“Excellent.” Ephialtes rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “This is our big chance, my brother.”

“That’s what you said about our last stunt,” Otis mumbled. “I was hanging in that block of ice suspended over the River Lethe for six months, and we didn’t even get any media attention.”

“This is different!” Ephialtes insisted. “We will set a new standard for entertainment! If Mother is pleased, we can write our own ticket to fame and fortune!”

“If you say so,” Otis sighed. “Though I still think those ballerina costumes from Swan Lake would look lovely—”

“No ballet!”

“Sorry.”

“Come,” Ephialtes said. “Let’s examine the tigers. I want to be sure they are hungry!”

The giants lumbered off into the gloom, and Percy turned toward the jar.

_ I need to see inside, _ he thought.  _ I have to know for sure. _

He willed his dream forward, right to the surface of the jar. Then he passed through.

The air in the jar smelled of stale breath and tarnished metal. The only light came from the dim purple glow of a dark sword, its Stygian iron blade set against one side of the container. Huddled next to it was a dejected-looking boy in tattered jeans, a black shirt, and an old aviator jacket. On his right hand, a silver skull ring glittered.

“Oh gods, Nico,” Percy muttered. “Why did you go? You knew you didn’t have to.”

But the son of Hades couldn’t hear him.

The container was completely sealed. The air was turning poisonous. Nico’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow. He appeared to be meditating. His face was pale, and thinner than Percy remembered.

On the inner wall of the jar, it looked as though Nico had scratched three hash marks with his sword—three days that he’d been imprisoned. It didn’t seem possible he could have survived so long without suffocating, but Percy knew better. The death trance would allow Nico to survive long enough for him to be rescued. He glanced down at the pomegranate seeds between Nico’s feet. Three had been eaten and spit out. Five were still encased in dark red pulp.

“You’re an idiot,” Percy informed his friend. “Such an idiot. You didn’t have to go. You shouldn’t have gone looking. Not even to keep up pretenses. And why didn’t you bring more seeds? Will is going to kill us if we let anything happen to you. I…” his voice cracked. “You’re my cousin, Nico.  _ I _ won’t forgive myself if you don’t come back alive.”

The image faded, and a girl’s voice whispered: “Percy.”

Percy sat bolt upright. Annabeth was standing next to his bed, smiling down at him. Her blond hair fell across her shoulders. Her storm-gray eyes were bright with amusement. He remembered his first day at Camp Half-Blood, five years ago, when he’d woken from a daze and found Annabeth standing over him. She had said,  _ You drool when you sleep. _

She was sentimental that way.

“No way,” Percy said, shaking his head. “No, I’m not getting in trouble again. How come you always break the rules? Sitting at my table, coming into my cabin at night.”

Annabeth’s lips twitched. “Really?”

“What’s up?” he sighed, very conscious of his pajamas, pillow hair, and breath.

“I just wanted to talk,” she said. Her face fell. “I’m worried about the others. I don’t think we should have kept this a secret this long. What if we’ve ruined everything we tried so hard to change?”

“You can’t worry about that,” Percy said. “Those are our friends and nothing can change that. They just need a little bit to think things through.”

“I guess so,” Annabeth sighed. “It’s just… they’re never going to be the friends we remember. I never told Piper about my cousin. Jason… gods, Jason  _ never  _ knew. Would never know. Maybe we would have told Frank and Hazel, but when we got to New Rome…” she trailed off. She didn’t have to say what they found out.

“I miss that life sometimes,” she admitted. “Our first timeline. Fighting gods, going on quests, fighting Titans, more quests, fighting giants… it was good. We were done. We were going to college. Then I remember everything bad and I’m glad we got this second chance. Even if that means we lost our friends. Because they still are our friends and I just want them to be happy.”

They sat in silence for a while.

“I was having a nightmare when you woke me up,” Percy finally said.

He told Annabeth what he’d seen. When he told her about Nico, Annabeth seemed to freeze up.

“What happened with Nico?” Percy asked her. “Why did he go looking for the Doors? We know where they are.”

“Percy, please,” Annabeth whispered. “I didn’t want him to do it. He volunteered to go. I know I should have stopped him, but I knew even if he was captured, he’d be fine. I… I was willing to bet on that.”

Percy looked his girlfriend in the eyes. “What happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yes. Nico did go "looking" for the Doors. It's probably not really what you think, him doing it to keep up the pretense. Little backstory next chapter.


	14. I Don't Care What Hephaestus Thinks, Automatons Are Unreliable (Nico XIV)

“HAVE YOU FOUND THE ENTRANCE?” NICO ASKED.

Annabeth shook her head. “Not yet.”

At the moment, they were in the Hades cabin attempting to pull together some type of plan for the coming months. Bianca was out at some camp activity with Ethan and Allegra, and Will was in the infirmary for his shift. Nico figured they could probably get in trouble for having two campers alone in a cabin, but Annabeth hadn’t seemed too concerned.

She pulled up a tab on Daedalus’s laptop. “I found this though. It’s a prototype for an automaton. If I can get one of the Hephaestus kids to build it, we can drop these into Tartarus and they’ll look for the entrance.”

“Are you sure this will work?” he asked. “The Labyrinth might not even be reconstructed yet.”

“It has been,” Annabeth insisted. “The map is changing every so often. The maze might not be tied to Daedalus’s lifeforce anymore, but it’s still his maze and he linked it to a map on his laptop. Every time Pas—the sorceress, I mean, changes the maze, it updates here.” She pulled up another tab of twisting and winding passages.

Nico frowned. “And you’re sure those automatons can handle Tartarus?”

“Well, no,” Annabeth admitted. “Which is why we need to get to work on them right away. I need to know if we need to make any changes.” She went silent. “We only have two months to figure this out, Nico,” she said. “I… I don’t want to leave them behind, but I don’t want to be stuck down there forever. I don’t want Percy to stay. You know he’ll stay if I stay.”

“And you’re willing to bet on these automatons?”

Annabeth shrugged. “I know you don’t like them. I’m not fond of them myself, but it’s out best chance.” She hesitated. “I was hoping you could take me down to the Underworld to drop them off when they’re made.”

“We won’t have to go near the edge, will we?” Nico asked warily.

“No way,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. “I’ll just tell them where to go and they’ll go.”

Nico eyed the prototype design on Annabeth’s laptop dubiously. “If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Annabeth said confidently. She brought out a strange looking device from her laptop bag and plugged it into the laptop.

“What is that?” Nico asked.

Annabeth glanced over absently. “Oh, I’m trying to make a projector for when I meet Arachne. I’d rather not have to bring Daedalus’s laptop with me. I don’t want it getting lost. The projector should show the Chinese finger trap design and dimensions.”

“Oh,” Nico said, not really understanding any of it. “But don’t you need the laptop for the maze?”

“Sort of,” Annabeth nodded. “I’m going to have Beckendorf make a smaller device that’s just linked to the Labyrinth maze. A tablet I guess. I really don’t want to risk losing the laptop in Tartarus.”

“Nico, you in here?” Bianca’s voice called.

Nico sat up straighter. Even after a few months of her being back, he still got excited to hear his sister’s voice.

“Yeah!” he called back.

Bianca opened the door. “Oh, hey, Annabeth. What are you working on?”

“I’m trying to find a way out of hell,” she answered. “It’s harder than it looks though. I can’t find the entrance and I’ve spent months looking.”

Bianca blinked. “What?”

Annabeth looked up. “Sorry. It’s, you know, a future thing.”

“By that she means she and Percy don’t want to leave the friendly Titan and giant in Tartarus,” Nico said. “Because if she let things play out normally, she and Percy already have a way out.”

Bianca glanced at Nico. “Right. Um, do you want me to leave you two to your planning then?”

“No, you can stay!” Nico said eagerly. “If you want, I mean.”

The projector chose that moment to show an image of the Chinese finger trap Annabeth was trying to upload from Daedalus’s laptop.

Bianca jumped backwards. “What was that?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Annabeth said. She pressed a button on the projector and the image disappeared. “3D projector. Nyssa made it for me. I was just uploading an image.” She disconnected the projector from the laptop. “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Bianca rubbed her arms like she was cold. “It’s strange how advanced everything is now. Doesn’t it bother you?” she asked Nico.

He shrugged. “Not really. I don’t go out into the world much though. Haz—uh, I mean, it’s kinda weird getting used to the new fashions and social norms, but I was pretty young when we left the 20th century and dad dipped us in the Lethe. Some memories come back, but it’s fuzzy and I wouldn’t rely on my ability to recall all the correct details. For me, most of the strangeness is feelings. Like some of the current clothing seemed odd to me at first, but I couldn’t explain why.”

Annabeth gave Bianca a smile. “Hey, I think you’re doing great. And I will help you figure out whatever you want if you need it.”

“Thank you,” Bianca said. “Um, how’s the  _ Argo II _ going?”

“Should be ready at the end of June,” Annabeth said. “Two months.”

“Then you’re leaving to get Percy and whoever else is part of the prophecy?” Bianca said.

Annabeth nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I know who they are. Nico does too, but I don’t think he’s allowed to acknowledge the other camp much.”

Nico shrugged.

“Frank Zhang and Hazel Levesque,” Annabeth told Bianca. “Those are the Romans.” She tapped her laptop. “I have to go give the Hephaestus kids these blueprints.”

“Let me know when they’re done,” Nico sighed. “I’ll take you.”

“Thanks, Nico!” Annabeth called as she left the cabin.

Bianca waited a minute before giving Nico a harsh look. “Please tell me you aren’t doing anything dangerous.”

“Annabeth and I are telling little robots to go to Tartarus,” Nico said. “Literally.”

“Of course you are,” Bianca muttered.

* * *

The first test was a complete and utter failure. The robots happily crawled towards the pit and jumped over the cliff, but as soon as they got deeper into Tartarus, they stopped moving. According to Annabeth, they were still sending signals, but they weren’t moving anywhere.

The second test was better, but still a failure. The robots had been fitted with more heat protection since that’s what Annabeth thought went wrong the first time. They crawled to the pit, hopped the cliff… and stopped working.

“Too much protection,” Annabeth muttered.

The third test was the best yet. Annabeth managed to get the ratios correct so once the robots were in Tartarus, they moved freely, but the one thing they didn’t account for was the monsters. Annabeth growled in frustration every time a transmission was broken by a monster destroying the robots.

They sent more robots, but the result was the same. The automatons could not survive monster attacks.

“I don’t know what to do,” Annabeth sighed. “I really thought this would work, but now it’s June and we leave in less than two weeks.”

“What if the automatons were dropped off in different parts of Tartarus?” Nico suggested.

Annabeth frowned. “Unless we flew  _ over _ the pit and dropped them, that wouldn’t work. Besides, they’d never make it to the bottom. There’s all kinds of flying demons that could grab them.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Nico said.

“Then what did you mean?”

“I mean, we already know what’s supposed to happen, right?” Nico said. “I go looking for the Doors, you guys rescue me, and I tell you where the Doors are.”

“I don’t follow,” Annabeth said.

Nico swallowed. “I could drop them in Tartarus. When… when I go looking for the Doors.”

Understanding washed Annabeth’s face for a brief second before her eyes widened. “No way! I would never ask you to go through that again, Nico. No. We can figure something else out.”

“Like what?” Nico asked. “I’m leaving in a few days. This is the only chance we have to make new automatons so I can take them with me. I’ll look for the entrance and take it out. Worst case is the… the twins will capture me, and Percy and the others will save me.”

He wished he felt as brave as his speech sounded. The idea of facing the bronze jar again was terrifying. Nico could feel his hands shaking and his body trembled.

“I guess that’s true,” Annabeth said. Her brow was creased in worry. “I just don’t… I don’t want to make you do this.”

“I’m offering,” Nico said.

Annabeth tapped a finger on her knee. “If you’re sure—”

“I am,” Nico said quickly before he could change his mind.

“—then I’ll have Beckendorf make some automatons,” Annabeth said. “I’ll give them to you before you leave.” She hurried off towards the forges, leaving Nico regretting his choice to open his mouth.

* * *

Nico decided to leave after the campfire the day before he knew Percy was due to arrive at Camp Jupiter. He sat with Will in the Apollo section as usual. Neither of them sang much which was fine. But Nico knew Will could tell he was anxious about something.

When the campfire finished, they stood up to walk back to the cabins.

“I’m leaving,” Nico told Will. “I… I have to go.”

Will paused. He looked worried. “You aren’t going to the Doors, are you? Because Annabeth and Percy knew where those are so you don’t need to go. If you’re going to find the Doors, then I’m going with you.”

“No,” Nico shook his head. “You’re not going with me. I’m… I’m going to California for a while. I’m not sure when I’ll be back.”

“You will be back though, right?”

“August 1st at the latest,” Nico said. “Promise.”

He didn’t meet Will’s eyes though. Nico was sure Will knew he wasn’t giving him the whole story, but Will also knew there were things Nico couldn’t tell them just yet because of his vow to his father. Will wouldn’t know if he couldn’t say the rest because of that vow or just because Nico didn’t want to tell him.

Although, he was sure Will could guess it was the latter.

“Stay safe, di Angelo.”

“You too, Solace.”

Will stared at him for a minute. Then he wrapped his arms around Nico in a big hug.

“Squishing me, Solace!” Nico gasped.

Will let go and backed off some. “I’ll miss you. Promise to IM me at least once?”

“July,” Nico said, hoping he would still make it to July this time. “I’ll IM you in July. Goodbye, Will.”

“Bye, Nico.”

Nico trudged to the dark and shadows. There were plenty more things he’d like to say to Will before leaving, but everything he wanted to say would give him a reason not to go.

The shadowed wrapped around him, and he stepped into the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nico chapter! So there's the backstory and the reason Annabeth feels incredibly guilty about this.


	15. We're Still Lying to Our Friends (Percy XV)

ANNABETH FINISHED TELLING PERCY about what had happened with Nico. He took it in silently.

“I know I shouldn’t have agreed, but…”

Percy shook his head. “Hey. It wasn’t your first choice. Nico offered, you agreed. That’s it. Now let’s focus on finding him. Speaking of that, can we  _ not _ go to Phorcys?”

Annabeth laughed. “Percy, we have to go to Charleston. Phorcys is the one that gave us that information.”

“Can’t we just accidentally stop there?”

“I love you,” Annabeth said, shaking her head.

“I love you too, so let’s just skip Atlanta—”

“Percy!”

“Fine,” Percy grumbled. “Atlanta it is.”

* * *

The next morning, everyone gathered in the mess hall. By the time Percy got there, Jason and Piper were already there, talking in low tones and seemingly arguing about something. Leo was lounging in a chair with his feet propped up on the table. Frank and Hazel were talking to Magnus and Alex at one end of the table.

Percy sunk into the seat next to where Annabeth’s seat was. She came in moments later.

“I guess you all probably have something you want to say to us,” Annabeth said.

Coach Hedge snorted. “Norse. I knew you two cupcakes smelled off.”

Magnus and Alex exchanged looks like  _ What’s that supposed to mean? _

“I thought about what happened,” Hazel spoke up. “And you had your reasons. I’m not mad.”

“Me too,” Frank added. “I trust Percy. He trusts you and Magnus and Alex. That’s good enough for me.”

Jason nodded. “You made a hard choice, Annabeth. I can respect that. But I think from now on, no more secrets. We need to trust each other completely if we want to defeat Gaea.”

“That’s fair,” Annabeth agreed.

“In line with that,” Piper began, “there’s something Jason and I have to tell you guys.”

Leo raised an eyebrow. “You two dating?” he asked with a grin.

Piper’s face turned red. “No! We’ve been having these… dreams. Well, Jason has dreams, I… it’s like visions.”

Leo’s smile faded. “Visions? Like in your dagger?”

“Like deja vu,” Piper said. “Only… it’s strange. In Kansas, I saw a vision of Percy and Jason fighting, but both of them were possessed by the eidolon.”

Percy’s eyes flitted to Annabeth. She looked worried.

“Percy wasn’t possessed though,” she said. “I don’t understand. How could you see something that didn’t happen?”

Piper shook her head. “I don’t know. Jason? Tell them about your dreams.”

“I’ve been having the same dream for a while,” he said. “Well, it’s not always the same, but it always starts the same.” He frowned. “There’s this guy. He says, ‘You cannot control your parentage, but you can choose your legacy.’ And then another voice says, ‘Our desires reveal us. They show us for who we really are.’” Jason hesitated. “And then my voice. It’s my voice that shouts, ‘REMEMBER!’ I get the feeling that I haven’t gotten all my memories back yet. Like my subconscious is trying to tell me to remember.” He looked at Percy. “Are all your memories back?”

Percy nodded. “Yeah. They came back on Frank’s quest. Wait. Did you say you think your voice is telling you to remember?”

“It has to be,” Jason said. “It sounds like me. Um,” he swallowed. “This is going to sound strange, but at the end of my dreams… sometimes they end with that same line. I’m on a boat and there’s an explosion. I’m fighting this man and then I look over to see someone and I tell him, ‘GO! Remember!’ Then… then the man I was fighting… he kills me. And I wake up.”

Percy looked at Annabeth, wondering how she was staying so calm.

“It sounds like a demigod dream,” she said. “Prophetic dreams maybe. I think you should write down all these dreams and pay attention to when— _ if _ —they happen.”

“That’s all you can say about that?” Piper asked, jaw dropped.

Annabeth sighed. “I don’t know what to do about it, Piper. I’ve never heard of this before. It doesn’t sound like a normal demigod dream, but it definitely has something to do with Jason being a demigod. Jason, can you… can you remember anything else from your dreams?” she asked hesitantly.

“Nico was there,” Jason recalled. “Nico di Angelo. He asked if I trusted him. And he was with Frank and I. We were fighting monsters.” He shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s all fuzzy. I only remember the beginning and the end because they repeat a lot.” He cleared his throat. “But we have other stuff to discuss. If no one knows what this is, then—”

“It happened to me too,” Leo interrupted. His eyes flickered to Hazel and Frank. “Uh, the first day. Once when I was talking to Frank and then again when I was talking to Alex.”

Alex blinked. “Me? What do you mean?”

Leo looked uncomfortable. “Well, it was kind of like a memory I’d forgotten, but I swear it never happened. I just… I thought I ran into you once at a shelter, but that can’t be right.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Alex asked quietly. “Anything?”

“You introduced yourself and told me you were a girl then,” Leo said. “You were planning to run away.”

A dark shadow crossed over Alex’s face. “I remember,” she said. “That was the first shelter right after my father kicked me out.”

“But it never happened,” Leo insisted. “I would remember meeting you before.”

Alex didn’t say anything. She didn’t have to. Percy had a good idea why. In this timeline, Alex never got kicked out. Which meant that if Alex really meant it when she said it was the first shelter after she was kicked out, Leo was remembering a memory from the original timeline.

And Jason…

Jason could remember his death. Maybe he didn’t know that was how he perished in the original timeline, but Percy knew. He felt sick hearing that one of his best friends would be going through that.

“What about Frank?” Hazel asked. “What happened with that?”

Leo made a face. “It’s going to sound stupid.”

“It won’t,” Annabeth promised.

“Frank asked me if I was Sammy,” Leo said.

Hazel stiffened. “And?”

“And I saw our conversation at Great Salt Lake,” Leo said. “You said I was so much like, then I cut you off and guessed Sammy. You asked if I knew and I said I don’t know who Sammy is, but that Frank had asked me earlier. That’s why I said I got deja vu when we  _ actually _ had that conversation.”

Annabeth pinched her lips. “The  _ second _ anyone else experiences something like this, tell us immediately. This could be good or bad.”

They sat in silence for a minute to mule it over.

Jason cleared his throat. “So grab some food, everybody. Let’s get started on the… other matters.”

The meeting was like a war council with donuts. Then again, back at Camp Half-Blood they used to have their most serious discussions around the Ping-Pong table in the rec room with crackers and Cheez Whiz, so Percy felt right at home.

He told them about his dream—the twin giants planning a reception for them in an underground parking lot with rocket launchers; Nico di Angelo trapped in a bronze jar, slowly dying from asphyxiation with pomegranate seeds at his feet.

Hazel choked back a sob. “Nico… Oh, gods. The seeds.”

“You know what they are?” Magnus asked.

Hazel nodded. “He showed them to me once. They’re from our stepmother’s garden.”

“Persephone,” Piper said.

Percy shuddered. “Creepy lady.”

He’d seen Persephone a total of five times between the timelines. Twice to get the quest to find the Sword of Hades that she’d made behind the god’s back. Twice in the Battle of Manhattan. And once in the original timeline when Nico kidnapped him for information on his mom. But the times when Persephone summoned him to find the Sword were the ones where he actually spent the most time around the goddess. She hadn’t been exactly warm and sunny. He had also been to her Underworld garden—a creepy place full of crystal trees and flowers that bloomed blood-red and ghost white.

“The seeds are a last-resort food,” Hazel said. Percy could tell she was nervous, because all the silverware on the table was starting to move toward her. “Only children of Hades can eat them. Nico always kept some in case he got stuck somewhere. But if he’s really imprisoned—”

“The giants are trying to lure us,” Annabeth said. “They’re assuming we’ll try to rescue him.”

“Well, they’re right!” Hazel looked around the table, her confidence apparently crumbling. “Won’t we?”

“Absolutely,” Alex said.

“Yes!” Coach Hedge yelled with a mouthful of napkins. “It’ll involve fighting, right?”

“Hazel, of course we’ll help him,” Frank said. “But how long do we have before… uh, I mean, how long can Nico hold out?”

“One seed a day,” Hazel said miserably. “That’s if he puts himself in a death trance.”

“Did you say death trance?” Magnus asked. “What is that supposed to be?”

“It keeps him from consuming all his air,” Hazel said. “Like hibernation, or a coma. One seed can sustain him one day, barely.”

“And he has five seeds left,” Percy said. “That’s five days, including today. The giants must have planned it that way, so we’d have to arrive by July first. Assuming Nico is hidden somewhere in Rome—”

“That’s not much time,” Piper summed up. She put her hand on Hazel’s shoulder. “We’ll find him. At least we know what the lines of the prophecy mean now.  _ Twins snuff out the angel’s breath / Who holds the key to endless death. _ Your brother’s last name: di Angelo. Angelo is Italian for ‘angel.’”

“Oh, gods,” Hazel muttered. “Nico…”

“We’ll rescue him,” Percy promised her. “We have to. The prophecy says he holds the key to endless death.”

“That’s right,” Piper said encouragingly. “Hazel, your brother went searching for the Doors of Death in the Underworld, right? He must’ve found them. He can tell us where the Doors are and how to close them.”

Hazel took a deep breath. “Yes. Good.”

“Uh…” Leo shifted in his chair. “One thing. The giants are expecting us to do this, right? So we’re walking into a trap?”

Hazel looked at Leo like he’d made a rude gesture. “We have no choice!”

“Don’t get me wrong, Hazel. It’s just that your brother, Nico… he knew about both camps.”

“Yes,” Hazel said.

“He’s been going back and forth,” Leo said, “and he didn’t tell either side. He never told Jason he knew him, and I don’t know if he told Percy.”

Jason sat forward, his expression grim. “You’re wondering if we can trust him.” He bit his lip. “I… I…” he trailed off.

Piper looked at him. “What?”

“In my dreams, Nico asked if I trusted him, right?” Jason said. “What if that’s supposed to be talking about this moment? Dreams aren’t always literal, right?”

Annabeth shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know, Jason. Clovis would be the person to ask about that. Nico’s the next best thing. He sometimes can control his dreams and connect to other people. But… you have a point.”

“Before this all began, I remember talking to Nico when he was at Camp,” Jason said. “He was the first child of the Big Three I’d met and it was nice to be able to relate, you know? Leo said Nico’s been going between camps, but he said that his father sent him to Camp Jupiter to be his Ambassador. I think Pluto, or Hades, sent Nico to the Roman camp because he knew something big was coming. He wanted Nico to be ready.” He paused. “I think we can trust him.”

Hazel gave Jason a big smile. “You can!”

Leo blinked. “Yeah, but still. We know it’s a trap and we don’t know for sure where his loyalties lie—”

“It’s a fair point,” Jason agreed. “But we can’t just abandon him without the full story.” He looked at Magnus and Alex. “Does he know you two are Norse?”

Magnus nodded. “Yeah. There’s not many people that know. We could probably list the people outside this room that know on one hand.”

“Chiron, Nico, Will, Thalia, Grover, Bianca,” Alex listed off. She paused and tilted her head. “Okay, two hands, but yeah, that’s it.”

“Thalia knew?” Jason asked incredulously.

Magnus grinned sheepishly. “She, uh, found out by accident. Grover too. It was the first time I came to Camp Half-Blood. We were on a quest to rescue Alex. And Artemis,” he added hastily. “I went on a separate quest with Annabeth and Nico to get, um, a sword and the former lieutenant of Artemis recognized it as Norse. So I had to explain.”

Hazel perked up. “Bianca? I haven’t gotten the chance to meet Bianca.”

“You’ll love her,” Annabeth assured Hazel. “You’re both a lot alike.”

“Does she know about Nico?”

Annabeth’s face fell. “No. When Nico said he was leaving… he asked me not to say why. He didn’t tell anyone why. Us two were the only ones who knew where he was going.”

“Not even Will?” Percy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, he didn’t  _ tell _ Will, but I’m sure Will can guess what he’s doing.”

From up above came a whirring sound like a large drill.

“That’s Festus,” Leo said. “I’ve got him on autopilot, but we must be nearing Atlanta. I’ll have to get up there… uh, assuming we know where to land.”

Everyone turned to Percy.

Jason raised an eyebrow. “You’re Captain Salt Water. Any ideas from the expert?”

Percy had long since gotten over the resentment to Jason about the Kansas fight—even if it was pretty obvious that he could beat Jason any day—but Jason clearly wasn’t. Okay, neither was Percy, but the scorn still stung.

“We should land somewhere central,” Percy said. “High up so we can get a good view of the city. I don’t know how the Mist is going to cover us, so maybe avoid downtown?”

Leo nodded. “On it.” He raced for the stairs.

“I guess I’ll go look around,” Percy mumbled. “Uh, Frank, you’ve got the blood of Poseidon. I could use your help.”

Frank smiled. “Sure.”

“Great,” Percy said. “We should take one more.” He glanced at Annabeth for a second and then turned to Coach Hedge. “Coach, how do you feel about looking for saltwater?”

Coach Hedge snorted. “Well, you’ll certainly need my help if you run into any bloodthirsty sea monsters.”

Percy forced a smile. “This is going to be so much fun.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It made me kinda mad that Jason didn't trust Nico in the books. I understand why, but still. Either way, in this universe, Nico was a little more receptive to friendship and while he was at Camp Jupiter, he did kinda have a sort of friendship with Jason so I think that would influence Jason to be more trusting of him. Plus the dreams.


	16. Esther is the Real MVP (Percy XVI)

PERCY CLIMBED OUT ON DECK AND SAID, “WOW.”

They had landed near the summit of a forested hill. A complex of white buildings, like a museum or a university, nestled in a grove of pines to the left. Below them spread the city of Atlanta—a cluster of brown and silver downtown skyscrapers two miles away, rising from what looked like an endless flat sprawl of highways, railroad tracks, houses, and green swathes of forest.

“Ah, lovely spot.” Coach Hedge inhaled the morning air. “Good choice, Valdez.”

Leo shrugged. “I just picked a tall hill. That’s a presidential library or something over there. At least that’s what Festus says.”

“I don’t know about that!” Hedge barked. “But do you realize what happened on this hill? Frank Zhang, you should know!”

Frank flinched. “I should?”

“A son of Ares stood here!” Hedge cried indignantly.

“I’m Roman… so Mars, actually.”

“Whatever! Famous spot in the American Civil War!”

“I’m Canadian, actually.”

“Whatever! General Sherman, Union leader. He stood on this hill watching the city of Atlanta burn. Cut a path of destruction all the way from here to the sea. Burning, looting, pillaging—now there was a demigod!”

Frank inched away from the satyr. “Uh, okay.”

Percy couldn’t imagine this Frank giving such a command. Or giving commands at all. But the Frank he knew Frank could become? Yeah, that Frank could give commands. Maybe not one such command as this, but in a month, Frank would become a great leader. Percy knew that with certainty.

“Anyway,” Percy said, clearing his throat, “let’s try not to burn down the city this time.”

The coach looked disappointed. “All right. But where to?”

Percy pointed toward downtown. “When in doubt, start in the middle.”

* * *

Catching a ride there was super easy. The three of them headed to the presidential library and asked the staff if they could call a taxi or give them directions to the nearest bus stop. Percy could have summoned Blackjack and he could have led Frank and Coach Hedge straight to the aquarium, but what was the point of having future knowledge if you didn’t manipulate at least some aspects to your own advantage? There was no way Percy was going to suck it up and got to Atlanta if he didn’t get Esther’s peach preserve out of the whole thing.

True to the first time, Esther insisted on driving them personally. It was unnecessary, but Hedge pulled Percy aside and assured him that Esther smelled like a normal human.

“With a hint of potpourri,” he said. “Cloves. Rose petals. Tasty!”

They piled into Esther’s big black Cadillac and drove toward downtown. Esther was so tiny, she could barely see over the steering wheel; but that didn’t seem to bother her. She muscled her car through traffic while regaling them with stories about the crazy families of Atlanta—the old plantation owners, the founders of Coca-Cola, the sports stars, and the CNN news people. Percy decided that if they all survived this and things turned out great, he’d have to come back and visit her.

“Hey, Esther?” he said. “What’s the first thing you think of when you think of saltwater in Atlanta?”

The old lady chuckled. “Oh, sugar. That’s easy. Whale sharks!”

“Whale sharks?” Frank asked nervously. “You have those in Atlanta?”

“At the aquarium, sugar,” Esther said. “Very famous! Right downtown. Is that where you wanted to go?”

Percy sighed. “Yeah. That’s where we want to go.”

Esther dropped them at the main entrance, where a line was already forming. She insisted on giving them her cell phone number for emergencies, money for a taxi ride back to the Carter Center, and a jar of homemade peach preserves, which for some reason she kept in a box in her trunk. Frank stuck the jar in his backpack and thanked Esther, who had already switched from calling him sugar to son.

As she drove away, Frank said, “Are all people in Atlanta that nice?”

Hedge grunted. “Hope not. I can’t fight them if they’re nice. Let’s go beat up some whale sharks. They sound dangerous!”

Percy looked at all the elementary schoolers in their colorful T-shirts from various day camps. He felt a twinge of sadness. Right now, had they not gone through this time travel mess, he and Annabeth would have finished college in New Rome and maybe—he barely allowed himself the hope in fear that he might jinx it—maybe they would have been talking about marriage and kids. He really hoped that not preventing the eidolons from blowing up New Rome hadn’t had any negative effects on that dream.

Even so, had the giant war not started, Percy would be at Camp Half-Blood right now, settling into his cabin for the summer, teaching sword-fighting lessons in the arena, planning pranks on the other counselors, waiting for his next prophecy he couldn’t seem to catch a break from. These kids had no idea just how crazy a summer camp could be.

Frank stared at the admissions line. “Uh, does anyone have any money? All I have are three denarii from Camp Jupiter and five dollars Canadian. I’m thinking they don’t take that kind of money here.”

Hedge patted his gym shorts and pulled out what he found. “Three quarters, two dimes, a rubber band and—score! A piece of celery.” He started munching on the celery, eyeing the change and the rubber band like they might be next.

Percy patted his pockets. “I’ve got my pen.”

A woman in a blue-and-green Georgia Aquarium shirt came up to them, smiling brightly.

“Ah, VIP visitors!” She had perky dimpled cheeks, thick-framed glasses, braces, and frizzy black hair pulled to the sides in pigtails, so that even though she was probably in her late twenties, she looked like a schoolgirl nerd—sort of cute, but sort of odd. Along with her Georgia Aquarium polo shirt, she wore dark slacks and black sneakers, and she bounced on the balls of her feet like she simply couldn’t contain her energy. Her name tag read KATE. Of course, Percy knew that was a misspelling of her real name: Keto.

“You have your payment, I see,” she said. “Excellent!”

“What?” Percy asked.

Keto scooped the three denarii out of Frank’s hand. “Yes, that’s fine. Right this way!” She spun and trotted off toward the main entrance.

Percy resigned himself to following her.

“It could be a trap,” Frank protested.

“It is,” Percy assured him. Though in hindsight, it probably wasn’t very reassuring to Frank.

“She’s not mortal,” Hedge said, sniffing the air. “Probably some sort of goat-eating, demigod-destroying fiend from Tartarus.”

“Not like we have a choice,” Percy muttered.

“Awesome.” Hedge grinned. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Keto got them past the ticket queue and into the aquarium with no problem.

“Right this way.” Kate grinned at Percy. “It’s a wonderful exhibit. You won’t be disappointed. So rare we get VIPs.”

“Uh, you mean demigods?” Frank asked.

Keto winked at him impishly and put a finger to her mouth. “So over here is the cold-water experience, with your penguins and beluga whales and whatnot. And over there… well, those are some fish, obviously.”

For an aquarium worker, she didn’t seem to know much or care much about the smaller fish. They passed one huge tank full of tropical species, and when Frank pointed to a particular fish and asked what it was, Keto said, “Oh, those are the yellow ones.”

They passed the gift shop. Frank slowed down to check out a clearance table with clothes and toys.

“Take what you want,” Keto told him.

Frank blinked. “Really?”

“Of course! You’re a VIP!”

Frank hesitated. Then he stuffed some T-shirts in his backpack.

“Dude,” Percy said.

“What?” Frank said defensively. “I didn’t pack for a long trip. Besides, she said I could.”

“Yeah but,” Percy said, holding up a T-shirt that had the aquarium logo. “You want a bunch of Georgia Aquarium shirts?”

“I just want shirts,” Frank said. He added a snow globe to his stash, which contradicted his statement, but Percy didn’t say anything. Then Frank picked up a braided cylinder about the size of a candy bar.

He squinted at it. “What is—?”

“Chinese handcuffs,” Percy said.

Frank, who was Chinese Canadian, looked offended. “How is this Chinese?”

“I don’t know,” Percy said. “That’s just what it’s called. It’s like a gag gift.”

“Come along, boys!” Keto called from across the hall.

“I’ll show you later,” Percy promised.

Frank stuffed the handcuffs in his backpack, and they kept walking.

They passed through an acrylic tunnel. Fish swam over their heads, and Percy felt irrational panic building in his throat. Not so irrational though considering he knew that he was going to be trapped in a tank unless he could figure out a way to escape unscathed. Still, the muskeg came back to haunt him.

_ This is dumb, _ he told himself.  _ I’ve been underwater a million times. And I’m not even in the water. _

The real threat was Keto and Phorcys, he reminded himself. Unfortunately, Percy didn’t have much of a choice but to play along until they could get the needed info from Phorcys.

They emerged in a viewing room awash with blue light. On the other side of a glass wall was the biggest aquarium tank Percy had ever seen. Cruising in circles were dozens of huge fish, including two spotted sharks, each twice Percy’s size. They were fat and slow, with open mouths and no teeth.

“Whale sharks,” Coach Hedge growled. “Now we shall battle to the death!”

Keto giggled. “Silly satyr. Whale sharks are peaceful. They only eat plankton.”

Percy scowled. No one was questioning how “Kate” knew Hedge was a satyr and Coach Hedge didn’t even seem fazed by Keto.

“Peaceful sharks?” the coach said with disgust. “What’s the point of that?”

Frank read the plaque next to the tank. “The only whale sharks in captivity in the world,” he mused. “That’s kind of amazing.”

“Yes, and these are small,” Keto said. “You should see some of my other babies out in the wild.”

“Your babies?” Frank asked.

Keto got a wicked glint in her eyes.

“So  _ Kate _ ,” Percy said. “We’re looking for Phorcys. Where is he?”

Keto looked taken aback by Percy’s tone, but she handled herself well. She snorted. “That’s where we’re going, silly. The real exhibits are right through here.” She gestured at the far wall. The solid black surface rippled, and another tunnel appeared, leading through a luminous purple tank.

Keto strolled inside. The last thing Percy wanted to do was follow, but they needed a reason to go to Charleston and talking to Phorcys was the only way to get that information. Percy took a deep breath and followed his friends into the tunnel.

As soon as they entered, Coach Hedge whistled. “Now that’s interesting.”

Gliding above them were multicolored jellyfish the size of trash cans, each with hundreds of tentacles that looked like silky barbed wire. One jellyfish had a paralyzed ten-foot-long swordfish tangled in its grasp. The jellyfish slowly wrapped its tendrils tighter and tighter around its prey.

Keto beamed at Coach Hedge. “You see? Forget the whale sharks! And there’s much more.”

Keto led them into an even larger chamber, lined with more aquariums. On one wall, a glowing red sign proclaimed: DEATH IN THE DEEP SEAS! Sponsored by Monster Donut.

Percy frowned. His last experience with Monster Donut hadn’t been pleasant. It had involved acid-spitting serpent heads, much screaming, and a cannon. A cannon that had probably saved his life as well as Annabeth and Tyson’s lives, but still. A cannon.

In one aquarium, a dozen hippocampi—horses with the tails of fish—drifted aimlessly. Percy’s blood boiled in anger when he remembered what was wrong with this aquarium. He cursed himself for not figuring out a way to include in his promise from the gods a way to ensure that these creatures would not be harmed like this.

“This is wrong,” Percy growled under his breath.

He turned and saw something even worse. At the bottom of a smaller tank, two Nereids—female sea spirits—sat cross-legged, facing each other, playing a game of Go Fish. They looked incredibly bored. Their long green hair floated listlessly around their faces. Their eyes were half closed.

Percy felt so angry, he could hardly breathe. He glared at Keto. “How can you keep them here?”

“I know.” Keto sighed. “They aren’t very interesting. We tried to teach them some tricks, but with no luck, I’m afraid. I think you’ll like this tank over here much better.”

Percy started to protest, but Keto had already moved on.

“Holy mother of goats!” cried Coach Hedge. “Look at these beauties!”

He was gawking at two sea serpents—thirty-foot-long monsters with glowing blue scales and jaws that could have bitten a whale shark in half. In another tank, peeking out from its cement cave, was a squid the size of an eighteen-wheeler, with a beak like a giant bolt cutter.

A third tank held a dozen humanoid creatures with sleek seal bodies, doglike faces, and human hands. They sat on the sand at the bottom of the tank, building things out of Legos, though the creatures seemed just as dazed as the Nereids.

Percy hands clenched into fists. He never liked telekhines, especially since they fought for Kronos in the Titan war, but seeing them in this way made him feel sorry for them. One of the telekhines, a younger one, was trying to make a sword out of Legos, but he was too groggy to put the pieces together.

“Is this legal?” Frank whispered to Percy.

“No,” Percy said through gritted teeth.

“And these sea monsters,” Keto narrated up ahead, “can grow five hundred feet long in the deep ocean. They have over a thousand teeth. And these? Their favorite food is demigod—”

“Demigod?” Frank yelped.

“But they will eat whales or small boats, too.” Keto turned to Percy and blushed. “Sorry… I’m such a monster nerd! I’m sure you know all this, being the son of Poseidon, and all.”

Percy didn’t like how much Keto knew about him. He didn’t like the way she casually tossed out information about drugging captive creatures or which of her babies liked to devour demigods. He  _ really  _ didn’t like the way she treated her captives.

“Look  _ Kate _ ,” he said. “I don’t know who you think you are—”

“Kate?” She looked momentarily confused. Then she glanced at her name tag. “Oh…” She laughed. “No, it’s—”

“Hello!” said a new voice, booming through the aquarium.

A small man scuttled out of the darkness. He walked sideways on bowed legs like a crab, his back hunched, his arms raised on either side like he was holding invisible plates. He wore a wetsuit that was several horrible shades of green. Glittery silver words printed down the side read: PORKY’S FOLLIES. A headset microphone was clamped over his greasy wiry hair. His eyes were milky blue, one higher than the other, and though he smiled, he didn’t look friendly—more like his face was being peeled back in a wind tunnel.

“Visitors!” the man said, the word thundering through the microphone. He had a DJ’s voice, deep and resonant, which did not at all match his appearance. “Welcome to Phorcys’s Follies!” He swept his arms in one direction, as if directing their attention to an explosion. Nothing happened.

“Curse it,” the man grumbled. “Telkhines, that’s your cue! I wave my hands, and you leap energetically in your tank, do a synchronized double spin, and land in pyramid formation. We practiced this!”

The sea demons paid him no attention.

Coach Hedge leaned toward the crab man and sniffed his glittery wetsuit. “Nice outfit.” He didn’t sound like he was kidding. Of course, the satyr wore gym uniforms for fun.

“Thank you!” The man beamed. “I am Phorcys.”

Frank shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Why does your suit say Porky?”

Phorcys snarled. “Stupid uniform company! They can’t get anything right.”

Keto tapped her name tag. “I told them my name was Keto. They misspelled it as Kate. My brother… well, now he’s Porky.”

“I am not!” Phorcys snapped. “I’m not even a little porky. The name doesn’t work with Follies, either. What kind of show is called Porky’s Follies? But you folks don’t want to hear us complain. Behold, the wondrous majesty of the giant killer squid!”

He gestured dramatically toward the squid tank. This time, fireworks shot off in front of the glass right on cue, sending up geysers of golden sparkles. Music swelled from the loudspeakers. The lights brightened and revealed the wondrous majesty of an empty tank.

The squid had apparently skulked back into its cave.

“Curse it!” Phorcys yelled again. He wheeled on his sister. “Keto, training the squid was your job. Juggling, I said. Maybe a bit of flesh-rending for the finale. Is that too much to ask?”

“He’s shy,” Keto said defensively. “Besides, each of his tentacles has sixty-two razorlike barbs that have to be sharpened daily.” She turned toward Frank. “Did you know the monstrous squid is the only beast known to eat demigods whole, armor and all, without getting indigestion? It’s true!”

Frank stumbled away from her, hugging his gut as if making sure he was still in one piece.

“Keto!” Porky snapped—literally, since he clicked his fingers to his thumbs like crab claws. “You’ll bore our guests with so much information. Less education, more entertainment! We’ve discussed this.”

“But—”

“No buts! We’re here to present ‘Death in the Deep Seas!’ Sponsored by Monster Donut!”

The last words reverberated through the room with extra echo. Lights flashed. Smoke clouds billowed from the floor, making donut-shaped rings that smelled like real donuts.

“Available at the concession stand,” Phorcys advised. “But you’ve spent your hard-earned denarii to get the VIP tour, and so you shall! Come with me!”

“Yeah, um, hold it,” Percy said.

Phorcys’s smile melted in an ugly way. “Yes?”

“You’re Gaea’s kid,” Percy started, but Phorcys interrupted him with a sigh.

“Five thousand years, and I’m still known as Gaea’s little boy. Never mind that I’m one of the oldest sea gods in existence. Older than your upstart father, by the way. I’m god of the hidden depths! Lord of watery terrors! Father of a thousand monsters! But, no… nobody even knows me. I make one little mistake, supporting the Titans in their war, and I’m exiled from the ocean—to Atlanta, of all places.”

“We thought the Olympians said Atlantis,” Keto explained. “Their idea of a joke, I guess, sending us here instead.”

Frank tilted his head. “And you’re a goddess?”

“Keto, yes!” She smiled happily. “Goddess of sea monsters, naturally! Whales, sharks, squids, and other giant sea life, but my heart always belonged to the monsters. Did you know that young sea serpents can regurgitate the flesh of their victims and keep themselves fed for up to six years on the same meal? It’s true!”

Frank was still clutching his stomach like he was going to be sick.

Coach Hedge whistled. “Six years? That’s fascinating.”

“I know!” Keto beamed.

“And how exactly does a killer squid rend the flesh from its victims?” Hedge asked. “I love nature.”

“Oh, well—”

“Stop!” Phorcys demanded. “You’re ruining the show! Now, witness our Nereid gladiators fight to the death!”

A mirrored disco ball descended into the Nereid exhibit, making the water dance with multicolored light. Two swords fell to the bottom and plunked in the sand. The Nereids ignored them and kept playing Go Fish.

“Curse it!” Phorcys stomped his legs sideways.

Keto grimaced at Coach Hedge. “Don’t mind Porky. He’s such a windbag. Come with me, my fine satyr. I’ll show you full-color diagrams of the monsters’ hunting habits.”

“Excellent!”

Before Percy could object, Keto led Coach Hedge away through a maze of aquarium glass, leaving Frank and him alone with the crabby sea god.

A bead of sweat traced its way down Percy’s neck. He exchanged a nervous look with Frank. He could send Frank after Coach Hedge and then attack Phorcys. Once they got away, Percy could claim he got the necessary information from Phorcys.

Phorcys read his expression—though it was the wrong interpretation.

“Oh, it’s fine!” the god assured him. “Keto might be a little boring, but she’ll take good care of your friend. And honestly, the best part of the tour is still to come!”

Percy tried to think, but he was starting to get a headache. He wasn’t sure what it was from.

“So…” he managed. “Bacchus sent us here.” He looked at Phorcys. “Bacchus said you might know what your mom Gaea is up to, and these twin giant brothers of yours—Ephialtes and Otis. And if you happen to know anything about this Mark of Athena—”

“Bacchus thought I would help you?” Phorcys asked.

“Well, yeah,” Percy said. “I mean, you’re Phorcys. Everybody talks about you.”

Phorcys tilted his head so that his mismatched eyes almost lined up. “They do?”

“Of course. Don’t they, Frank?”

“Oh… sure!” Frank said. “People talk about you all the time.”

“What do they say?” the god asked.

Frank looked uncomfortable. “Well, you have great pyrotechnics. And a good announcer’s voice. And, um, a disco ball—”

“It’s true!” Phorcys clacked his fingers and thumbs excitedly. “I also have the largest collection of captive sea monsters in the world!”

“And you know stuff,” Percy added. “Like about the twins and what they’re up to.”

“The twins!” Phorcys made his voice echo. Sparklers blazed to life in front of the sea serpent tank. “Yes, I know all about Ephialtes and Otis. Those wannabes! They never fit in with the other giants. Too puny—and those snakes for feet.”

Percy shuddered, remembering those snakey feet.

“They knew they couldn’t get by on their strength, so they decided to go for drama—illusions, stage tricks, that sort of thing,” Phorcys continued. “You see, Gaea shaped her giant children with specific enemies in mind. Each giant was born to kill a certain god. Ephialtes and Otis… well, together they were sort of the anti-Dionysus.”

“So they’re what? Against wine?” Frank asked.

The sea god snorted. “Nothing like that! Ephialtes and Otis always wanted to do things better, flashier, more spectacular! Oh, of course they wanted to kill Dionysus. But first they wanted to humiliate him by making his revelries look tame!”

Frank glanced at the sparklers. “By using stuff like fireworks and disco balls?”

Phorcys’s mouth stretched into that wind tunnel smile. “Exactly! I taught the twins everything they know, or at least I tried to. They never listened. Their first big trick? They tried to reach Olympus by piling mountains on top of one another. It was just an illusion, of course. I told them it was ridiculous. ‘You should start small,’ I said. ‘Sawing each other in half, pulling gorgons out of a hat. That sort of thing. And matching sequined outfits. Twins need those!’”

Percy really wished the twins hadn’t taken up Phorcys ideas for the outfits.

“You would have thought that by now they would listen to me, but alas,” the sea god said sadly. “Now they’re preparing for their doomsday show in Rome. They’re keeping some prisoner in a large bronze jar.” He turned toward Frank. “You’re a child of Ares, aren’t you? You’ve got that smell. The twins imprisoned your father the same way, once.”

“Child of Mars,” Frank corrected. “Wait… these giants trapped my dad in a bronze jar?”

“Yes, another stupid stunt,” said the sea god. “How can you show off your prisoner if he’s in a bronze jar? No entertainment value. Not like my lovely specimens!” He gestured to the hippocampi, who were bonking their heads apathetically against the glass.

Percy tried to think. But it was like the lethargy of the addled sea creatures was affecting him. “You said this—this doomsday show was Gaea’s idea?”

“Well… Mother’s plans always have lots of layers.” He laughed. “The earth has layers! I suppose that makes sense!”

“Uh-huh,” Percy said. “And so her plan…”

“Oh, she’s put out a general bounty on some group of demigods,” Phorcys said. “She doesn’t really care who kills them, as long as they’re killed. Well… I take that back. She was very specific that two must be spared. One boy and one girl. Tartarus only knows why. At any rate, the twins have their little show planned, hoping it will lure these demigods to Rome. I suppose the prisoner in the jar is a friend of theirs or some such. That, or perhaps they think this group of demigods will be foolish enough to come into their territory searching for the Mark of Athena.” Phorcys elbowed Frank in the ribs. “Ha! Good luck with that, eh?”

Frank laughed nervously. “Yeah. Ha-ha. That would be really dumb because, uh…”

Phorcys narrowed his eyes.

Percy slipped his hand into his pocket. He closed his fingers around Riptide. Even if he knew Phorcys wasn’t going to make his move yet, the tension had Percy on edge.

But Phorcys just grinned and elbowed Frank again. “Ha! Good one, child of Mars. I suppose you’re right. No point talking about it. Even if the demigods found that map in Charleston, they’d never make it to Rome alive!”

“Yes, the MAP IN CHARLESTON,” Frank said loudly, giving Percy a wide-eyed look to make sure he hadn’t missed the information. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he had held up a large sign that read CLUE!!!!!

“But enough boring educational stuff!” Phorcys said. “You’ve paid for the VIP treatment. Won’t you please let me finish the tour? The three denarii entrance fee is nonrefundable, you know.”

“Well, we really should be going,” Percy tried.

“But what about Coach?” Frank said.

Phorcys gave them what Percy was sure was supposed to be a comforting smile, but it ended up looking a bit more sinister. “You’ll be reunited with your satyr after your VIP treatment. As long as my sister hasn’t bored him to death.” He smiled like it was a funny joke, but Percy didn’t really think it was very funny.

Phorcys clapped his hands twice. On the wall under the glowing red sign, a new tunnel appeared, leading into another tank.

“Walk this way!” Phorcys scuttled sideways through the tunnel.

Frank scratched his head. “Do we have to—?” He turned sideways.

“It’s just a figure of speech, man,” Percy said. “I really don’t think—”

“We don’t have a choice,” Frank sighed. “They’ve got Coach wandering around and we can’t go back without him.”

“Yeah,” Percy muttered dejectedly. “Into the tank we go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Esther's pretty cool. I'd love to see something where Percy, Frank, and Coach Hedge go back after the war to visit her or something.


	17. I Said Giant Killer Shark, Not Tiny Harmless Koi (Percy XVII)

THE TUNNEL RAN ALONG THE FLOOR of a gymnasium-sized tank. Except for water and some cheap decorations, it seemed majestically empty. Percy guessed there were about fifty thousand gallons of water over their heads. If the tunnel were to shatter for some reason…

_ No big deal, _ Percy thought.  _ I’ve been surrounded by water thousands of times. This is my home court. _

But his heart was pounding. He remembered sinking into the cold Alaskan bog—black mud covering his eyes, mouth, and nose.

Phorcys stopped in the middle of the tunnel and spread his arms proudly. “Beautiful exhibit, isn’t it?”

_ For a tank to keep a demigod and a giant koi fish, no! _ Percy wanted to shout. He took deep breaths of rich oxygen to try and calm his nerves and to actually focus on what was happening in front of him.

Percy concentrated on details. In one corner of the tank, snuggled in a forest of fake kelp, was a life-sized plastic gingerbread cottage with bubbles coming out of the chimney. In the opposite corner, a plastic sculpture of a guy in an old-fashioned diving suit knelt beside a treasure chest, which popped open every few seconds, spewed bubbles, and closed again. Littered across the white sand floor were glass marbles the size of bowling balls, and a strange assortment of weapons like tridents and spearguns. Outside the tank’s display wall was an amphitheater with seating for several hundred.

“What do you keep in here?” Frank asked. “Giant killer goldfish?”

“Sharks!” Percy blurted. “Huge, giant sharks. Really tough and strong sharks. Like the kind of sharks Coach Hedge likes.”

Frank and Phorcys gave Percy odd looks. Phorcys raised his eyebrows. “Oh, that would be good! Keto could provide many wonderful sharks to add to this exhibit. But, no, Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon, this is not for sharks. Nor is this tank for goldfish, Frank Zhang, descendant of Poseidon.”

At  _ descendant of Poseidon, _ Frank flinched. He stepped back, gripping his backpack like a mace he was prepared to swing.

“The bounty,” Percy said, uncapping his pen. Instantly, Riptide appeared in his hand.

“Well…” Phorcys shrugged, trying to look modest. “Yes.”

“We came here for answers!” Percy growled.

Phorcys nodded. “The thing is, you don’t really need to know anything.” His grotesque smile stretched wide. “You see, even if you made it to Rome, which is quite unlikely, you’d never defeat my giant brothers without a god fighting at your side. And what god would help you? So I have a better plan. You’re not leaving. You’re VIPs—Very Important Prisoners!”

Percy lunged. Frank hurled his backpack at the sea god’s head. Phorcys simply disappeared. The god’s voice reverberated through the aquarium’s sound system, echoing down the tunnel.

“Yes, good! Fighting is good! You see, Mother never trusted me with big assignments, but she did agree that I could keep anything I caught. You two will make an excellent exhibit—the only demigod spawn of Poseidon in captivity. ‘Demigod Terrors’—yes, I like that! We already have sponsorship lined up with Bargain Mart. You can fight each other every day at eleven AM and one PM, with an evening show at seven PM.”

“You’re crazy!” Frank yelled.

“Don’t sell yourself short!” Phorcys said. “You’ll be our biggest draw!”

Frank ran for the exit, only to slam into a glass wall. Percy ran the other way and found it blocked as well. Their tunnel had become a bubble. He put his hand against the glass and realized it was softening, melting like ice. Soon the water would come crashing in.

“We won’t cooperate, Phorcys!” he shouted.

“Oh, I’m optimistic,” the sea god’s voice boomed. “If you won’t fight each other at first, no problem! I can send in fresh sea monsters every day. After you get used to the food here, you’ll be properly sedated and will follow directions. Believe me, you’ll come to love your new home.”

Over Percy’s head, the glass dome cracked and began to leak.

“I’m the son of Poseidon!” Percy tried to keep the fear out of his voice. “You can’t imprison me in water. This is where I’m strongest.”

Phorcys’s laugh seemed to come from all around them. “What a coincidence! It’s also where I’m strongest. This tank is specially designed to contain demigods. Now, have fun, you two. I’ll see you at feeding time!”

The glass dome shattered, and the water crashed in.

* * *

Percy held his breath until he couldn’t stand it. When he finally filled his lungs with water, it felt just like normal breathing. The water pressure didn’t bother him. His clothes didn’t even get wet. His underwater abilities were as good as ever.

_ It’s just a stupid phobia, _ he assured himself.  _ I’m not going to drown. _

Then he remembered Frank.

Percy turned in a full circle. Nothing. Then he glanced up. Hovering about him was a giant goldfish. Frank had turned—clothes, backpack, and all—into a koi the size of a teenage boy.

_ Dude. _ Percy sent his thoughts through the water, the way he spoke with other sea creatures.  _ A goldfish? _

Frank’s voice came back to him:  _ I freaked. We were talking about goldfish, so it was on my mind. Sue me. _

_ But I talked about sharks too, _ Percy protested. He shook his head.  _ Nevermind. I don’t suppose turning into a shark is an option now? _

Frank raised an eyebrow. _ You kidding? Would a hammerhead even fit in this tank? _

_ Point, _ Percy said.  _ Alright. Let’s figure out how to escape. _

Frank swam around the tank and reported no exits. The top was covered with Celestial bronze mesh, like the curtains that roll down over closed storefronts at the mall. Percy tried to cut through with Riptide, but he couldn’t make a dent. He tried to smash through the glass wall with his sword hilt—again, no luck. Then he repeated his efforts with several of the weapons lying around the bottom of the tank and managed to break three tridents, a sword, and a speargun.

Finally he tried to control the water. He wanted it to expand and break the tank, or explode out the top. The water didn’t obey. Maybe it was enchanted, or under the power of Phorcys. Percy concentrated until his ears popped, but the best he could do was blow the lid off the plastic treasure chest.

Nothing he didn’t already know. Some powerful demigod he was. How could he have gone through the Titan war  _ twice _ and the Giant war once already and still not be powerful enough to escape an underwater prison?

_ Look!  _ Frank said.

Outside the glass, Keto was leading Coach Hedge through the amphitheater, lecturing him on something while the coach nodded and admired the stadium seating.

_ Coach! _ Percy yelled. Then he realized it was hopeless. The coach couldn’t hear telepathic yelling.

Frank bumped his head against the glass.

Hedge didn’t seem to notice. Keto walked him briskly across the amphitheater. She didn’t even look through the glass, probably because she assumed the tank was still empty. She pointed to the far end of the room as if saying,  _ Come on. More gruesome sea monsters this way. _

Percy scooped up a giant marble and hurled it underhanded like a bowling ball. It hit the glass with a thunk—not nearly loud enough to attract attention.

But Percy knew better. Coach Hedge had the ears of a satyr. Percy waited as the satyr’s ears twitched and then Hedge looked in the direction of the tank. When he saw Percy, his expression went through several changes in a matter of microseconds—incomprehension, surprise, outrage, then a mask of calm.

Before Keto could notice, Hedge pointed toward the top of the amphitheater. It looked like he might be screaming,  _ Gods of Olympus, what is that? _

Keto turned. Coach Hedge promptly took off his fake foot and ninja-kicked her in the back of the head with his goat hoof. Keto crumpled to the floor.

Percy winced. His own recently whopped head throbbed in sympathy, but he had never been happier to have a chaperone who liked mixed martial arts cage matches.

Hedge ran to the glass. He held up his palms like:  _ What are you doing in there, Jackson? _

Percy pounded his fist on the glass and mouthed: _ Break it! _

Hedge yelled a question that might have been:  _ Where’s Frank? _

Percy pointed at the giant koi.

Frank waved his left dorsal fin.  _ ’Sup? _

Behind Hedge, the sea goddess began to move. Percy pointed frantically.

Hedge shook his leg like he was warming up his kicking hoof, but Percy waved his arms,  _ No _ . They couldn’t keep whopping Keto on the head forever. Since she was immortal, she wouldn’t stay down, and it wouldn’t get them out of this tank. It was only a matter of time before Phorcys came back to check on them.

_ On three, _ Percy mouthed, holding up three fingers and then gesturing at the glass.  _ All of us hit it at the same time. _

Percy had never been good at charades, but Hedge nodded like he understood. Hitting things was a language the satyr knew well.

Percy hefted another giant marble.  _ Frank, we’ll need you too. Can you change form yet? _

_ Maybe back to human. _

_ Human is fine! Just hold your breath. If this works… _

Keto rose to her knees. No time to waste.

Percy counted on his fingers. _ One, two, three! _

Frank turned to human and shoved his shoulder against the glass. The coach did a Chuck Norris roundhouse kick with his hoof. Percy used all his strength to slam the marble into the wall, but he did more than that. He called on the water to obey him, and this time he refused to take no for an answer. He felt all the pent-up pressure inside the tank, and he put it to use. Water liked to be free. Given time, water could overcome any barrier, and it hated to be trapped, just like Percy. He thought about getting back to Annabeth. He thought about destroying this horrible prison for sea creatures. He thought about shoving Phorcys’s microphone down his ugly throat. Fifty thousand gallons of water responded to his anger.

The glass wall cracked. Fracture lines zigzagged from the point of impact, and suddenly the tank burst. Percy was sucked out in a torrent of water. He tumbled across the amphitheater floor with Frank, some large marbles, and a clump of plastic seaweed. Keto was just getting to her feet when the diver statue slammed into her like it wanted a hug.

Coach Hedge spit salt water. “Pan’s pipes, Jackson! What were you doing in there?”

“Phorcys!” Percy spluttered. “Trap! Run!”

* * *

Alarms blared as they fled the exhibits. They ran past the Nereids’ tank, then the telekhines. Percy wanted to free them, but how? They were drugged and sluggish, and they were sea creatures. They wouldn’t survive unless he found a way to transport them to the ocean. Besides, if Phorcys caught them, Percy was pretty sure the sea god’s power would overcome his. And Keto would be after them too, ready to feed them to her sea monsters.

_ I’ll be back, _ Percy promised, but if the creatures in the exhibits could hear him, they gave no sign.

Over the sound system, Phorcys’s voice boomed: “Percy Jackson!”

Flash pots and sparklers exploded randomly. Donut-scented smoke filled the halls. Dramatic music—five or six different tracks—blared simultaneously from the speakers. Lights popped and caught fire as all the special effects in the building were triggered at once.

Percy, Coach Hedge, and Frank stumbled out of the glass tunnel and found themselves back in the whale shark room. The mortal section of the aquarium was filled with screaming crowds—families and day camp groups running in every direction while the staff raced around frantically, trying to assure everyone it was just a faulty alarm system.

Percy knew better. He and his friends joined the mortals and ran for the exit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I REMEMBERED WHAT PERCY WAS ASKING ABOUT!!!!! Oh wow, okay. Do y'all remember when I was like "yeah I have no idea what Percy was going to say before Annabeth cut him off." It was about the Achilles Curse and he was saying "I wonder if I can still" something. Anyway, I couldn't remember until now. I'm like 90% sure it was going to be like "can I still get cursed" like do the arai's curses still work on him. Which is an interesting question that I do not know the answer to.
> 
> Anyway, poor Frank. Percy tried, he really did, to get something other than koi on his mind, but alas. It was not meant to be.


	18. I Do Damage Control Between Frank and Leo (Annabeth XVIII)

ANNABETH WAS TRYING TO CHEER UP HAZEL, regaling her with Percy’s greatest Seaweed Brain moments, when Frank stumbled down the hall and burst into her cabin.

“Where’s Leo?” he gasped. “Take off! Take off!”

Both girls shot to their feet.

“Where’s Percy?” Annabeth demanded. “And the Coach?”

Frank grabbed his knees, trying to breathe. His clothes were stiff and damp, like they’d been washed in pure starch. “On deck. They’re fine. We’re being followed!”

Annabeth pushed past him and took the stairs three at a time, Hazel right behind her and Frank trailing, still gasping for air. Percy and Hedge lay on the deck, looking exhausted. Hedge was missing his shoes. He grinned at the sky, muttering, “Awesome. Awesome.”

Percy’s shirt was shredded, but due to the Achilles Curse, only his clothes had sustained any damage. He didn’t say anything, but he grasped Annabeth’s hand weakly as if to say,  _ Be right with you, as soon as the world stops spinning. _

Leo, Piper, and Jason, who’d been eating in the mess hall, came rushing up the stairs.

“What? What?” Leo cried, holding a half-eaten grilled cheese sandwich. “Can’t a guy even take a lunch break? What’s wrong?”

“Followed!” Frank yelled again.

“Followed by what?” Jason asked.

“I don’t know!” Frank panted. “Whales? Sea monsters? Maybe Kate and Porky!”

“Leo, get us out of here,” Annabeth ordered.

Leo put his sandwich between his teeth, pirate style, and ran for the helm.

Soon the _ Argo II _ was rising into the sky. Annabeth manned the aft crossbow. She saw no sign of pursuit by whales or otherwise, but Percy, Frank, and Hedge didn’t start to recover until the Atlanta skyline was a hazy smudge in the distance.

“Charleston,” Percy said, hobbling around the deck like an old man. He still sounded pretty shaken up. “Set course for Charleston.”

“Charleston?” Jason said the name as if it brought back bad memories. “What exactly did you find in Atlanta?”

Frank unzipped his backpack and started bringing out souvenirs. “Some peach preserves. A couple of T-shirts. A snow globe. And, um, these not-really-Chinese handcuffs.”

“Let’s please start from the beginning,” Magnus interrupted, looking utterly confused. “Who’s Kate and Porky?”

They gathered on the quarterdeck so Leo could hear the conversation as he navigated. Percy and Frank took turns relating what had happened at the Georgia Aquarium, with Coach Hedge interjecting from time to time: “That was awesome!” or “Then I kicked her in the head!”

When Percy explained about the captive sea creatures in the aquarium, she understood why he seemed so upset.

“That’s terrible,” she said. “We need to help them.”

“We will,” Percy promised. “In time. But I have to figure out how. I wish…” He shook his head.

“Nevermind that,” Alex said, glancing around the Seven demigods of the prophecy. “You guys have bounties on your heads?”

Coach Hedge had lost interest in the conversation—probably because it was no longer about him—and wandered toward the bow of the ship, practicing his roundhouse kicks and complimenting himself on his technique.

“Do we get WANTED posters?” Leo asked. “And do they have our bounties, like, broken down on a price list?”

Hazel wrinkled her nose. “What are you talking about?”

“Just curious how much I’m going for these days,” Leo said. “I mean, I can understand not being as pricey as Percy or Jason, maybe… but am I worth, like, two Franks, or three Franks?”

“Hey!” Frank complained.

“Leo!” Annabeth snapped. She took a deep breath. “Whatever the bounty is, Gaea wants two of us, a male and a female, left alive. I don’t think either of us are worth more than another.”

Of course, there was a nagging voice in the back of her mind that reminded her that Gaea would prefer to have her and Percy’s blood used.

“We’re going to Charleston to find this map,” Annabeth continued.

Piper leaned against the control panel. She’d done her braid with white feathers today, which looked good with her dark brown hair. Annabeth wondered how she found the time. Annabeth could barely remember to brush her hair. Maybe that was just some power of Aphrodite.

“A map,” Piper said. “But a map to what?”

“The Mark of Athena,” Percy and Annabeth said together.

“The Athena Parthenos,” Hazel said. “The giants’ bane. We  _ need _ to get that map. If that statue really can heal the rift between the Romans and Greeks… it’s important.”

“Um…” Frank rolled his not-exactly-Chinese handcuffs between his fingers. “According to Phorcys, we’d have to be insane to try to find it.”

“ _ We _ won’t be finding it,” Annabeth said.

Everyone looked at her in confusion except Percy, Magnus, and Alex.

“What do you mean?” Piper asked.

“I mean, the Mark of Athena is my own quest to follow,” Annabeth said. “By myself.  _ Wisdom’s daughter walks alone. _ The prophecy says so. Anyway, Jason. The way you reacted. Have you been to Charleston before?”

Jason looked uneasy at the subject change. “Yeah,” he admitted. “Reyna and I did a quest there about a year ago. We were salvaging Imperial gold weapons from the C.S.S. Hunley.”

“The what?” Piper asked.

“Whoa!” Leo said. “That’s the first successful military submarine. From the Civil War. I always wanted to see that.”

“It was designed by Roman demigods,” Jason said. “It held a secret stash of Imperial gold torpedoes—until we rescued them and brought them back to Camp Jupiter.”

Hazel crossed her arms. “So the Romans fought on the Confederate side? As a girl whose grandmother was a slave, can I just say… not cool?”

Jason put his hands in front of him, palms up. “I personally was not alive then. And it wasn’t all  Greeks on one side and all Romans on the other. But, yes. Not cool.”

“If all the major civil war conflicts were between Greeks and Romans, what about the Norse?” Piper asked, looking at Magnus and Alex.

Alex shrugged. “I’m sure some of them fought in the war. Probably on the Union side. That’s, ah, that’s where the nexus is anyway.”

“It’s different for us,” Magnus said. “There isn’t a camp. We just… fight monsters if we have to and then if we die heroically, we go to Valhalla and train for Ragnarok. Not everyone there is a demigod and not all demigods make it there.”

Piper stared at them. “We really need to learn more about your world.”

“Back to Charleston,” Hazel said, “are we supposed to check that submarine?”

Jason shrugged. “Well… I can think of two places in Charleston we might search. The museum where they keep the Hunley—that’s one of them. It has a lot of relics from the Civil War. A map could be hidden in one. I know the layout. I could lead a team inside.”

“I’ll go,” Leo said. “That sounds cool.”

Jason nodded. He turned to Frank, who was trying to pull his fingers out of the Chinese handcuffs. “You should come too, Frank. We might need you.”

Frank looked surprised. “Why? Not like I was much good at that aquarium.”

“You did fine,” Percy assured him. “It took all three of us to break that glass.”

“Besides, you’re a child of Mars,” Jason said. “The ghosts of defeated causes are bound to serve you. And the museum in Charleston has plenty of Confederate ghosts. We’ll need you to keep them in line.”

Frank gulped. Annabeth shot him a reassuring smile. It was strange to see Frank as his less certain self after knowing how much of a leader he could be.

“Okay.” Frank relented. “Sure.” He frowned at his fingers, trying to pull them out of the trap. “Uh, how do you—?”

Leo chuckled. “Man, you’ve never seen those before? There’s a simple trick to getting out.”

Frank tugged again with no luck. Even Hazel was trying not to laugh.

Frank grimaced with concentration. Suddenly, he disappeared. On the deck where he’d been standing, a green iguana crouched next to an empty set of Chinese handcuffs.

“Well done, Frank Zhang,” Leo said dryly, doing his impression of Chiron the centaur. “That is exactly how people beat Chinese handcuffs. They turn into iguanas.”

Everybody busted out laughing. Frank turned back to human, picked up the handcuffs, and shoved them in his backpack. He managed an embarrassed smile.

“Anyway,” Frank said, clearly anxious to change the subject. “The museum is one place to search. But, uh, Jason, you said there were two?”

Jason’s smile faded. Whatever he was thinking about wasn’t pleasant.

“Yeah,” he said. “The other place is called the Battery—it’s a park right by the harbor. The last time I was there, Reyna and I saw something in the park. A ghost or some sort of spirit, like a Southern belle from the Civil War, glowing and floating along. We tried to approach it, but it disappeared whenever we got close. Then Reyna had this feeling—she said she should try it alone. Like maybe it would only talk to a girl. She went up to the spirit by herself, and sure enough, it spoke to her.”

Everyone waited.

“What did it say?” Annabeth asked.

“Reyna wouldn’t tell me,” Jason admitted. “But it must have been important. She seemed… shaken up. Maybe she got a prophecy or some bad news. Reyna never acted the same around me after that.”

_ Probably because of Aphrodite,  _ Annabeth thought bitterly. But she nodded at Jason. “A girls’ adventure, then,” she said. “Piper and Hazel can come with me.”

Both nodded, though Hazel looked nervous. No doubt her time in the Underworld had given her enough ghost experiences for two lifetimes. Piper stood up straighter.

“I guess that leaves you three with Coach,” Annabeth said, looking at Percy, Magnus, and Alex. “Can I trust you not to blow up the ship?”

Alex placed a hand over her heart in mock hurt. “Me? I would never.”

Magnus looked unimpressed. “You literally almost destroyed half the cabins when you got access to one of the Party Ponies paint guns.”

“I forgot about that,” Percy said distantly, eyes still troubled from what he had seen in the aquarium. “But, yeah, we’ll be fine here.”

“So that’s settled.” Annabeth turned to Leo, who was studying his console, listening to Festus creak and click over the intercom. “Leo, how long until we reach Charleston?”

“Good question,” he muttered. “Festus just detected a large group of eagles behind us—long-range radar, still not in sight.”

Piper leaned over the console. “Are you sure they’re Roman?”

Leo rolled his eyes. “No, Pipes. It could be a random group of giant eagles flying in perfect formation. Of course they’re Roman! I suppose we could turn the ship around and fight—”

“Which would be a very bad idea,” Jason said, “and remove any doubt that we’re enemies of Rome.”

“Or I’ve got another idea,” Leo said. “If we went straight to Charleston, we could be there in a few hours. But the eagles would overtake us, and things would get complicated. Instead, we could send out a decoy to trick the eagles. We take the ship on a detour, go the long way to Charleston, and get there tomorrow morning—”

Hazel started to protest, but Leo raised his hand. “I know, I know. Nico’s in trouble and we have to hurry.”

“It’s June twenty-seventh,” Hazel said. “After today, four more days. Then he dies.”

“I know! But this might throw the Romans off our trail. We still should have enough time to reach Rome.”

Hazel scowled. “When you say should have enough...”

Leo shrugged. “How do you feel about barely enough?”

Hazel put her face in her hands for a count of three. “Sounds about typical for us.”

Annabeth decided to take that as a green light. “Okay, Leo. What kind of decoy are we talking about?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” He punched a few buttons on the console, rotated the turntable, and repeatedly pressed the A button on his Wii controller really, really fast. He called into the intercom, “Buford? Report for duty, please.”

Frank took a step back. “There’s somebody else on the ship? Who is Buford?”

A puff of steam shot from the stairwell, and Leo’s automatic table climbed on deck. Annabeth hadn’t seen much of Buford during the trip. He mostly stayed in the engine room. (Leo insisted that Buford had a secret crush on the engine.) He was a three-legged table with a mahogany top. His bronze base had several drawers, spinning gears, and a set of steam vents. Buford was toting a bag like a mail sack tied to one of his legs. He clattered to the helm and made a sound like a train whistle.

“This is Buford,” Leo announced.

“You name your furniture?” Frank asked.

“Hey, man,” Magnus said. “Respect the culture. Buddy of ours is a dwarf and they name everything. You gotta ask for permission to sit on the chair or drink from the cups.”

“Dwarf?” Frank squeaked.

“Leo, what exactly is Buford going to do?” Annabeth asked.

Leo blinked. “Oh. Well, he’ll just fly around with some dirty laundry.”

“Will he bring the laundry  _ back _ to the ship?”

Leo scratched his head. “Uh, maybe? I was going to ask him to get everything laundered and folded while he’s out.”

Annabeth took a deep breath. “Who’s laundry is that?”

“I don’t know!” Leo said, throwing his hands in the air. He cautiously peered into the mail sack. “Uh, looks like Frank’s?”

Frank gave Leo a sour look. “My only extra pants are in there.”

“Here’s an idea,” Annabeth said. “Everyone gather a few clothes that you don’t mind losing and we’ll send those out.” She looked at Jason, Piper, Leo, and Percy. “Unless you guys are really attached to your Camp shirts, you can throw all those in the bag. I brought a whole bin of extras.”

Percy poked a finger through his torn shirt he hadn’t had the chance to change out of. “This one is done. My other one got torn up by gorgons and the letters are all faded.”

Everyone stood there for a few moments.

“Well, go gather your stuff and change!” Annabeth said. “Unless you want to do that in front of all of us?”

That got rid of everyone quickly.

Ten minutes later, they had all finished dumping their extra clothes into Buford’s bag.

“Buford, are you ready for Operation End Table?” Leo said.

Buford spewed steam. He stepped to the railing. His mahogany top split into four pie slices, which elongated into wooden blades. The blades spun, and Buford took off.

Magnus whistled. “Never seen a table do  _ that _ before.”

“Well, I kept the command for Buford to get the clothes laundered and folded, but none of those were exactly our finest things.”

That was true. Annabeth had tossed her tar covered outfit from the day before in there and Percy had done the same. Jason’s ripped toga had gone in there too which probably wouldn’t look very good to the Romans if they found the laundry.

Leo rubbed his hands and grinned. “Well! I call that a good day’s work. I’m gonna calculate our detour route now. See you all at dinner!”

* * *

Percy passed out early, which left Annabeth with nothing to do in the evening except stare at her computer. She’d brought Daedalus’s laptop with her, of course. The laptop she hoped not to lose this time.

She didn’t bother to study a model of the Parthenon in Athens this time. Instead, she focused on the map of the Labyrinth. After months of searching, she was still nowhere near close to locating the waterfall room. Annabeth was hoping that she would find it eventually, but she was losing hope quickly. This would be the only way out of Tartarus if everything went according to plan.

_ Tartarus… _

The name sent chills down her spine. Until now, going back there had seemed like a distant event. She talked about it easily and made the plans without worrying too much. After all, there were months to prepare for this. By the time July 1st came, they would be ready.

Now that it was only days away from happening, Annabeth couldn’t stop thinking about it. Her brain listed off every detail that could go wrong. Every single moment of pain and suffering played back in her mind. And she and Percy were going straight there, knowing exactly what was going to happen.

Not to mention everything that came before the fall. Annabeth was tempted to just have Leo steer the ship to the right spot and blow a hole in Arachne’s lair. Wouldn’t it be just as clever of her to completely  _ beat _ the system? Wasn’t that plan worthy of a child of Athena?

That reminded her of her argument with her mother. Even knowing what was coming and knowing what was wrong, the words still stung.

Annabeth had been riding the subway back from the Upper East Side after visiting Percy’s mom. Annabeth knew everything was fine, but Sally and Paul didn’t. She made sure she made the trip out at least once a week like before to give them an update about the search.

It killed Annabeth that she couldn’t go straight out to California and be there when Percy woke up at the Wolf House. Or help him on his journey to Camp Jupiter. But she had to stay away for now. That was what was best.

That particular afternoon, coming back from Sally’s, Annabeth had felt even more drained than usual. She and Sally had first cried—Annabeth out of frustration and Sally out of despair—and then attempted to pull themselves together, but their nerves were frayed. Finally Annabeth took the Lexington Avenue subway down to Grand Central.

There were other ways to get back to her high school dorm from the Upper East Side, but Annabeth liked going through Grand Central Terminal. The beautiful design and the vast open space reminded her of Mount Olympus. Grand buildings made her feel better—maybe because being in a place so permanent made her feel more permanent. Had she figured that Athena probably would just show up along any alternative route she could take, Annabeth probably would have gone the less pretty route today.

She had just passed Sweet on America, the candy shop where Percy’s mom used to work, and was thinking about going inside to buy some blue candy for old times’ sake, when she saw Athena studying the subway map on the wall.

“Mother,” Annabeth said, coming up beside Athena.

Athena was dressed in jeans and hiking boots and a red flannel shirt, her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders. She held a backpack and a walking stick like she was prepared for a long journey.

“I must return home,” Athena murmured, studying the map. “The way is complex. I wish Odysseus were here. He would understand.”

“Mom—Athena,” Annabeth said. “I understand.”

The goddess turned. She seemed to look right through Annabeth with no recognition.

“That was my name,” the goddess said dreamily. “Before they sacked my city, took my identity, made me this.” She looked at her clothes in disgust. “I must return home.”

“Mom, it’s Annabeth. You’re daughter?”

“My daughter…” Athena repeated. “Yes, my children will avenge me. They must destroy the Romans. Horrible, dishonorable, copycat Romans. Hera argued that we must keep the two camps apart. I said, No, let them fight. Let my children destroy the usurpers.”

“You don’t mean that,” Annabeth said, trying to convince herself that this was just because of what was going on. This wasn’t her mom speaking.

“Replaced,” the goddess said, not hearing Annabeth. “Sacked. Looted like a trophy and carted off—away from my beloved homeland. I lost so much. I swore I would never forgive. Neither would my children.” She focused more closely on Annabeth. “You are my daughter?”

“Yes,” Annabeth said, trembling.

The goddess fished something from the pocket of her shirt—an old-fashioned subway token—and pressed it into Annabeth’s hand.

“Follow the Mark of Athena,” the goddess said. “Avenge me.”

Annabeth had looked at the coin. As she watched, it changed from a New York subway token to an ancient silver drachma, the kind used by Athenians. It showed an owl, Athena’s sacred animal, with an olive branch on one side and a Greek inscription on the other.

The Mark of Athena. The coin that began the nightmare.

“I will follow it,” Annabeth said. “And I will heal the rift between the Greeks and the Romans.”

The goddess stamped her walking stick against the marble floor.

“Never!” she said. “Anyone who helps Rome must perish. If you would join them, you are no child of mine. You have already failed me. Find the Mark, follow it to its source. Witness how Rome has disgraced me, and pledge your vengeance.”

“If we cannot make peace between us, then Gaea has already won,” Annabeth said. “You’re the goddess of wisdom. Surely you must know that.”

“You do not need Rome to defeat the Earth,” Athena said bitterly. “See what they have done, making a Roman of me. They wish me to be their goddess? Then let them taste their own evil. Kill them, child.”

Annabeth gave her mother a hard look. “I will not.”

“Then you are nothing.” The goddess turned to the subway map. Her expression softened, becoming confused and unfocused. “If I could find the route… the way home, then perhaps—But, no. Avenge me or leave me. You are no child of mine.”

Annabeth’s eyes stung. She glared at Athena before turning around and leaving.

This one thing was something that Annabeth knew had to happen, yet the first time… well, Annabeth didn’t think she’d ever have the same relationship with her mother. It was hard to forgive, hard to forget.

So deep in her thoughts, Annabeth jumped when Frank knocked.

“Um, sorry,” Frank said, poking his head in. “Could I—?”

Annabeth gave him a small smile. “Of course.”

Frank stepped inside, looking around the cabin. There wasn’t much to see. On her desk sat a stack of books, a journal and pen, and a picture of her dad flying his Sopwith Camel biplane, grinning and giving the thumbs-up. Annabeth liked that photo. It reminded her of the time she’d felt closest to him, when he’d strafed an army of monsters with Celestial bronze machine guns just to protect her—pretty much the best present a girl could hope for.

Hanging from a hook on the wall was her New York Yankees cap, her most prized possession from her mom. Once, the cap had had the power to turn its wearer invisible. Since Annabeth’s argument with Athena, the cap had lost its magic. Magnic that wouldn’t return until the fall when she and Percy would meet the Kanes. Assuming that even happened this time.

Otherwise, her cabin was bare. She kept it clean and simple, which helped her to think. Percy didn’t believe it because she always made excellent grades, but like most demigods, she was ADHD. When there were too many distractions in her personal space, she was never able to focus.

“So… Frank,” she ventured. “What can I do for you?”

Frank blushed and pulled his Chinese handcuffs out of his pocket. “I don’t like being in the dark about this,” he muttered. “Could you show me the trick? I didn’t feel comfortable asking anyone else.”

It was as flattering as before to know that Frank trusted her not to make fun of him.

She patted the bunk next to her. “Absolutely. Sit down.”

Frank sat on the edge of the mattress, as if preparing for a quick escape. Annabeth took the Chinese handcuffs and held them next to her computer. She hit the key for an infrared scan. A few seconds later a 3-D model of the Chinese handcuffs appeared on the screen. She turned the laptop so that Frank could see.

“How did you do that?” he marveled.

“Cutting-edge Ancient Greek technology,” she said. “Okay, look. The structure is a cylindrical biaxial braid, so it has excellent resilience.” She manipulated the image so it squeezed in and out like an accordion. “When you put your fingers inside, it loosens. But when you try to remove them, the circumference shrinks as the braid catches and tightens. There’s no way you can pull free by struggling.”

Frank stared at her blankly. “But what’s the answer?”

Annabeth resisted the urge to smile widely. “Well, because of the structure, the only way to get out is by not resisting. You don’t fight the handcuffs. You push your fingers in, not out. That loosens the braid.”

“Oh.” Frank tried it. It worked. “Thanks, but… couldn’t you have just shown me on the handcuffs without the 3-D program?”

“I guess it’s not in me to get straight to the point,” Annabeth said. “I like to know the reasoning behind things. I forget not everyone wants that.”

Frank tried the handcuffs again. “It’s easy when you know the solution.”

“Many of the best traps are simple,” Annabeth said. “You just have to think about it, and hope your victim doesn’t.”

Frank nodded. He seemed reluctant to leave.

“You know,” Annabeth said, “Leo doesn’t intend to be mean. He’s just got a big mouth. When people make him nervous, he uses humor as a defense.”

Frank frowned. “Why would I make him nervous?”

“You’re twice his size. You can turn into a dragon.”  _ And Hazel likes you, _ Annabeth thought, though she didn’t say that.

Frank didn’t look convinced. “Leo can summon fire.” He twisted the handcuffs. “Annabeth… sometime, maybe could you help me with another problem that’s not so simple? I’ve got… I guess you’d call it an Achilles’ heel.”

Annabeth felt like she’d just had a drink of Roman hot chocolate. She’d never really gotten the term warm and fuzzy, but Frank gave her that sensation. He was just a big teddy bear. She could see why Hazel liked him. Of course, she knew what Frank’s weakness was, but she wanted to let Frank tell her when he was comfortable.

“I’d be happy to,” she said. “Does anyone else know about this Achilles’ heel?”

“Percy and Hazel,” he said. “That’s it. Percy… he’s a really good guy. I would follow him anywhere. Thought you should know.”

Annabeth patted his arm. “Percy has a knack for picking good friends. Like you. But, Frank, you can trust anyone on this ship. Even Leo. We’re all a team. We have to trust each other.”

“I—I suppose.”

“So what’s the weakness you’re worried about?”

The dinner bell sounded, and Frank jumped.

“Maybe… maybe later,” he said. “It’s hard to talk about. But thanks, Annabeth.” He held up the Chinese handcuffs. “Keep it simple.”

The corners of Annabeth’s mouth twitched. “Will do, Frank.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, probably not everyone will understand, BUT... so my brother was wearing this red hoodie today and his hair is getting kinda long in the back and the top just above his eyes. I looked at him for a second and then again and for a hot second all I thought was "Keith."
> 
> Also, HAPPY HALLOWEEN! We didn't get any trick or treaters and I didn't go out (even if I'm "too old" but whatever, you can't set an age limit, just as long as you dress up you can trick or treat into your nineties for all I care), but that's okay. I had a good night, hope you guys did too!


	19. Nico's Appointment Has Been Cancelled (Annabeth XIX)

THAT NIGHT, ANNABETH SLEPT without nightmares, which just made her uneasy when she woke up—like the calm before a storm.

Leo docked the ship at a pier in Charleston Harbor, right next to the seawall. Along the shore was a historical district with tall mansions, palm trees, and wrought-iron fences. Antique cannons pointed at the water.

By the time Annabeth came up on deck, Jason, Frank, and Leo had already left for the museum. According to Coach Hedge, they’d promised to be back by sunset. Piper and Hazel were ready to go, but first Annabeth turned to Percy, who was leaning on the starboard rail, gazing over the bay.

Annabeth took his hand. “What are you going to do while we’re gone?”

“Jump into the harbor,” he said casually, like another kid might say,  _ I’m going to get a snack. _ “I want to try communicating with the local Nereids. Let them know about what’s going on in Atlanta.”

“Good idea,” Annabeth nodded. She glanced at her boyfriend.

His hair was dark and tangled as usual, but she reached up and touched the locks that used to be gray from an unfortunate date which involved the two of them holding up the weight of the sky.

Annabeth had had a matching streak of gray in her hair, but over the last year, the gray streak had finally disappeared. Even though she knew it was going to happen, it made Annabeth sad and a little worried. She felt like she’d lost a symbolic bond with Percy.

“Just when I had gotten used to the idea of going gray early,” Annabeth murmured.

Percy’s lips twitched up into a smile.

“Oh my gods, it’s gone?” Alex shouted.

Annabeth turned with a slightly exasperated expression. “Thank you, Alex.”

Alex was busy examining a lock of green hair that Annabeth knew had also been gray like her’s and Percy’s. Alex looked kind of downtrodden.

“I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” Alex muttered.

“We were kind of busy being held captive by your mother,” Magnus said.

Alex gave him a look. “So what?”

Annabeth shook her head. “Are you two sure you’ll be fine here?” she asked Magnus and Alex.

“Positive. It’s already two groups of three. Besides,” Alex grinned conspiratorially, “thought this was a girls trip?”

“Fair enough,” Annabeth smiled. “We’ll see you guys when we get back then.” She kissed Percy. “Good luck, Seaweed Brain. Come back to me, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. “You do the same.”

Annabeth turned to Piper and Hazel. “Okay, ladies. Let’s find the ghost of the Battery.”

* * *

The girls had a pretty good time walking along the Battery. According to the signs, the seaside park was called White Point Gardens.

The ocean breeze swept away the muggy heat of the summer afternoon, and it was pleasantly cool under the shade of the palmetto trees. Lining the road were old Civil War cannons and bronze statues of historical figures, which made Annabeth shudder. She thought about the statues in New York City during the Titan War, which had come to life thanks to Daedalus’s command sequence twenty-three. She wondered how many other statues around the country were secretly automatons, waiting to be triggered.

Charleston Harbor glittered in the sun. To the north and south, strips of land stretched out like arms enclosing the bay, and sitting in the mouth of the harbor, about a mile out, was an island with a stone fort.

The park wasn’t crowded. Annabeth imagined that most of the locals had gone on summer vacation, or were holed up at home taking a siesta. They strolled along South Battery Street, which was lined with four-story Colonial mansions. The brick walls were blanketed with ivy. The facades had soaring white columns like Roman temples. The front gardens were bursting with rose bushes, honeysuckle, and flowering bougainvillea. It looked like Demeter had set the timer on all the plants to grow several decades ago, then forgotten to come back and check on them.

“Kind of reminds me of New Rome,” Hazel said. “All the big mansions and the gardens. The columns and arches.”

“The South compared itself to Rome,” Annabeth said. “Architecture, honor, codes of chivalry. Slaves,” she added with a sour look at the beauty around her.

Hazel made a face. “Right. That’s honorable.” She hesitated, looking at Annabeth. “Um, there was something I wanted to ask you about. Both of you, I guess,” she added with a glance at Piper. “My brother, Nico, he tried to explain some things about how the world has changed.”

“Alex,” Annabeth realized.

Hazel nodded, red slowly spreading across her face. “Percy said she’s… genderfluid? But… but I don’t… get it.”

Annabeth mulled over what to say. “Well, I can only tell you what Alex told me. Alex is male today though, just so you know. I guess… well, genderfluid people aren’t anything new, they definitely existed in the 40s, but you probably wouldn’t know it.” She tilted her head. “And everyone is different.  _ Alex _ likes to be called he when he’s a he and she when she’s a she. Alex will usually tell you what pronouns to use, and if he doesn’t then it’s okay to ask.”

“Just don’t be rude about it,” Piper said. “Annabeth’s right though. It’s better to ask than to misgender someone.” She gave Hazel a small smile. “You’re doing good though. For someone dropped into the next century, I mean.”

Hazel managed a laugh. “Yeah. I guess. Electronics still amaze me. It’s lucky demigods don’t use much of those. Everything amazes me to be honest. Nico was really good about helping me adjust and explaining things.” She smiled like she was remembering a good memory. “I remember being so confused about, well, everything. The clothes, the food, the bathrooms…” Hazel shook her head. “Anyway, it’s a change, but I’m figuring it out.”

“Proud of you,” Piper said.

After that, they didn’t say much.

Piper kept looking around like she expected an ambush. She had said she’d seen this park in the blade of her knife, but she wouldn’t elaborate. Annabeth guessed she was afraid to. After all, the last time Piper had tried to interpret a vision from her knife, Percy and Jason had almost killed each other in Kansas.

Hazel also seemed preoccupied. Maybe she was taking in their surroundings, or maybe she was worrying about her brother. In less than four days, unless they found him and freed him, Nico would be dead.

Annabeth felt that deadline weighing on her, too. It was her fault after all that Nico was even in Tartarus in the first place. And it wasn’t  _ just _ Hazel who Nico had to live for now. Bianca was alive again, Percy and Annabeth were much closer to Nico than they were the first time, and, of course, Will Solace.

Until now, it hadn’t really dawned on Annabeth how strange it was that Nico and Will weren’t actually together. At least in this timeline. They flirted a lot, and she was sure that to an outsider it looked like it was only a matter of time before the two got together, but something was holding them back. Whatever it was, it had to do with something that had happened before they came back. Neither Nico nor Will talked much about Camp Half-Blood during the seven months Percy and Annabeth had been away. Well, other than Nico hadn’t taken Jason’s death that great.

Piper grabbed Annabeth’s arm, jarring her from her thoughts.

“There.” Piper pointed across the harbor.

A hundred yards out, a shimmering white figure floated on the water. As it got closer, Annabeth could tell it was the figure of a woman. Or a goddess.

“That’s not a ghost,” Hazel said. “No kind of spirit glows that brightly.”

As if in a trance, Piper walked across the street toward the edge of the seawall, narrowly avoiding a horse-drawn carriage.

“Piper!” Annabeth called.

“We’d better follow her,” Hazel said.

* * *

By the time Annabeth and Hazel caught up to her, the ghostly apparition was only a few yards away.

Piper glared at it like the sight offended her.

“It is her,” she grumbled.

Annabeth squinted at the ghost, but it blazed too brightly to make out details. Then the apparition floated up the seawall and stopped in front of them. The glow faded.

Regardless of how Annabeth felt about the goddess, Aphrodite’s beauty was always striking to behold. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Her face was hard to describe. Her features seemed to shift from those of one glamorous movie star to another. Her eyes sparkled playfully—sometimes green or blue or amber. Her hair changed from long, straight blond to dark chocolatey curls. She was dressed like a Southern belle, just as Jason had described. Her gown had a low-cut bodice of pink silk and a three-tiered hoop skirt with white scalloped lace. She wore tall white silk gloves, and held a feathered pink-and-white fan to her chest.

“Aphrodite,” Annabeth said.

“Venus?” Hazel asked in amazement.

“Mom,” Piper said, with no enthusiasm.

“Girls!” The goddess spread her arms like she wanted a group hug.

The three demigods did not oblige. Hazel backed into a palmetto tree.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Aphrodite said. “War is coming. Bloodshed is inevitable. So there’s really only one thing to do.”

“Uh… and that is?” Annabeth ventured.

“Why, have tea and chat, obviously. Come with me!”

* * *

Aphrodite knew how to do tea.

She led them to the central pavilion in the gardens—a white-pillared gazebo, where a table was set with silverware, china cups, and of course a steaming pot of tea, the fragrance shifting as easily as Aphrodite’s appearance—sometimes cinnamon, or jasmine, or mint. There were plates of scones, cookies, and muffins, fresh butter and jam—all of which, Annabeth figured, were incredibly fattening; unless, of course, you were the immortal goddess of love.

Aphrodite sat—or held court, rather—in a wicker peacock chair. She poured tea and served cakes without getting a speck on her clothes, her posture always perfect, her smile dazzling. Annabeth hated her more and more the longer they sat.

“Oh, my sweet girls,” the goddess said. “I do love Charleston! The weddings I’ve attended in this gazebo—they bring tears to my eyes. And the elegant balls in the days of the Old South. Ah, they were lovely. Many of these mansions still have statues of me in their gardens, though they called me Venus.”

“Which are you?” Annabeth asked. “Venus or Aphrodite?”

The goddess sipped her tea. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Annabeth Chase, you’ve grown into quite a beautiful young lady. You really should do something with your hair, though. And, Hazel Levesque, your clothes—”

“My clothes?” Hazel looked down at her rumpled denim, not self-consciously, but baffled, as if she couldn’t imagine what was wrong with them.

“Oh, Annabeth, dear, tell your cousin that his aunt says hello,” Aphrodite winked. “Him and his, oh what is Alex today? Boyfriend, yes? Oh, those two…” she sighed. “Well, of course I’m partial to you and Percy, but Freya’s a little more in favor of her side of things.”

“Mother!” Piper said. “You’re embarrassing me.”

“Well, I don’t see why,” the goddess said. “Just because you don’t appreciate my fashion tips and advice, Piper, doesn’t mean the others won’t. I could do a quick makeover for Annabeth and Hazel, perhaps silk ball gowns like mine—”

“Mother!”

“Fine,” Aphrodite sighed. “To answer your question, Annabeth, I am both Aphrodite and Venus. Unlike many of my fellow Olympians, I changed hardly at all from one age to the other. In fact, I like to think I haven’t aged a bit!” Her fingers fluttered around her face appreciatively. “Love is love, after all, whether you’re Greek or Roman. This civil war won’t affect me as much as it will the others.”

Because of course the least affected gods would be Aphrodite, Nemesis, and Dionysus. Although, Hecate wasn’t affected. At least she would give them some good help later.

Hazel nibbled a sugar cookie. “We’re not in a war yet, my lady.”

“Oh, dear Hazel.” Aphrodite folded her fan. “Such optimism, yet you have heartrending days ahead of you. Of course war is coming. Love and war always go together. They are the peaks of human emotion! Evil and good, beauty and ugliness.”

Hazel set down her sugar cookie. She had a few crumbs on her chin, and Annabeth liked the fact that Hazel either didn’t know or didn’t care.

“What do you mean,” Hazel asked, “heartrending days?”

The goddess laughed as if Hazel were a cute puppy. “Well, just look at your own lives! Dear Annabeth and Percy holding the weight of the world together, then Percy disappears for months until they are reunited in New Rome with dreams of the future only for those dreams to be shattered by the attack on the Romans.” She sighed. “Oh, and Piper. You and Jason—”

“Jason and I are not dating,” Piper said grumpily. “Don’t make it seem like we’re more than friends. Hera had to go and ruin that. We’re just trying to figure our relationship out.”

Aphrodite nodded. “A truly tragic story. But, well, that’s what you get when a non love god tries to create love. Don’t worry, dear, I’m still holding out hope for you two. And my dear Hazel… ripped from the arms of your first love by Death. You might be my favorite.”

Hazel looked disturbed.

“I suppose I can’t take all the credit for your troubles,” the goddess said. “But I do love twists and turns in a love story. Oh, all of you are such excellent stories—I mean, girls. You do me proud!”

“Mother,” Piper said, “is there a reason you’re here?”

“Hmm? Oh, you mean besides the tea? I often come here. I love the view, the food, the atmosphere—you can just smell the romance and heartbreak in the air, can’t you? Centuries of it.” She pointed to a nearby mansion. “Do you see that rooftop balcony? We had a party there the night the American Civil War began. The shelling of Fort Sumter. Oh, such a party!” Aphrodite said. “A string quartet, and all the men in their elegant new officers’ uniforms. The women’s dresses—you should’ve seen them! I danced with Ares—or was he Mars? I’m afraid I was a little giddy. And the beautiful bursts of light across the harbor, the roar of the cannons giving the men an excuse to put their arms around their frightened sweethearts!”

Annabeth’s tea was cold. She hadn’t eaten anything, but she felt like she wanted to throw up. “You’re talking about the beginning of the bloodiest war in U.S. history. Over six hundred thousand people died—more Americans than in World War One and World War Two combined.”

“And the refreshments!” Aphrodite continued. “Ah, they were divine. General Beauregard himself made an appearance. He was such a scoundrel. He was on his second wife, then, but you should have seen the way he looked at Lisbeth Cooper—”

“Mother!” Piper tossed her scone to the pigeons.

“Yes, sorry,” the goddess said. “To make the story short, I’m here to help you, girls. I doubt you’ll be seeing Hera much. Your little quest has hardly made her welcome in the throne room. And the other gods are rather indisposed, as you know, torn between their Roman and Greek sides. Some more than others.” Aphrodite fixed her gaze on Annabeth. “I suppose you’ve told your friends about your falling-out with your mother?”

“Honestly, it hasn’t come up yet,” Annabeth admitted. “We’ve been a little more focused on outrunning the Romans and rescuing Nico.”

“Oh, Nico di Angelo.” Aphrodite’s expression was suddenly very concerning to Annabeth. “He’s a rather complicated boy, isn’t he?”

Annabeth’s blood ran cold. “Leave him alone. You and your son… you’ve done enough to Nico for a hundred lifetimes.”

Aphrodite looked mildly offended. “Me and my son? Eros? Oh no, dear. I’m afraid you’ve got something wrong. My son doesn’t have an appointment with Nico di Angelo. He’s waiting for someone right now, yes, but it’s not the son of Hades. I can’t say who it is, a boy’s allowed to have his secrets from his mother.”

“Well, good,” Annabeth said. She was confused though. Eros, or Cupid, was supposed to be waiting for Nico in Croatia. Nico said that. He said he was  _ expecting _ it. Now she finds out that Cupid was waiting for someone else? That didn’t sound good at all.

“No, Nico di Angelo will have to figure this out on his own,” Aphrodite continued. “There’s really nothing more Eros or I could do for him.”

Hazel looked between Annabeth and Aphrodite. “What are you talking about? Nico… wait. Did someone break my brother’s heart?”

Annabeth pursed her lips. “No. It’s just… love gods haven’t been kind to Nico in the past. He’s my friend and I won’t let someone else mess his life up.”

“Oh.” Hazel looked pleased. “Good.”

“And that’s touching and all, but what’s this about Athena?” Piper asked.

“We had an argument,” Annabeth said. “Honestly, it’s nothing too important.”

“Nothing!” the goddess said. “Well, I don’t know about that. Athena was the most Greek of all goddesses. The patron of Athens, after all. When the Romans took over… oh, they adopted Athena after a fashion. She became Minerva, the goddess of crafts and cleverness. But the Romans had other war gods who were more to their taste, more reliably Roman—like Bellona—”

“Reyna’s mom,” Piper said.

“Yes, indeed,” the goddess agreed. “I had a lovely talk with Reyna a while back, right here in the park. And the Romans had Mars, of course. And later, there was Mithras—not even properly Greek or Roman, but the legionnaires were crazy about his cult. I always found him crass and terribly nouveau dieu, personally. At any rate, the Romans quite sidelined poor Athena. They took away most of her military importance. The Greeks never forgave the Romans for that insult. Neither did Athena.”

“The Mark of Athena,” Annabeth said. “We know it leads to the statue.”

Aphrodite smiled. “You are clever, like your mother. Understand, though, your siblings, the children of Athena, have been searching for centuries. None has succeeded in recovering the statue. In the meantime, they’ve been keeping alive the Greek feud with the Romans. Every civil war… so much bloodshed and heartbreak… has been orchestrated largely by Athena’s children.”

“And it will end with me,” Annabeth said firmly.

The goddess laughed. “They all say that I’m sure. At any rate, the clue you need is close by: a map of sorts, left by the children of Athena in 1861—a remembrance that will start you on your path, once you reach Rome. But no one has ever succeeded in following the Mark of Athena to its end. There you will face your worst fear—the fear of every child of Athena. And even if you survive, how will you  _ want to _ use your reward? For war or for peace?”

“Peace,” Annabeth said. “Now, this map. Where is it?”

“Guys!” Hazel pointed to the sky.

Circling above the palmetto trees were two large eagles. Higher up, descending rapidly, was a flying chariot pulled by pegasi. Apparently Leo’s diversion with Buford the end table hadn’t worked—at least not for long.

Aphrodite spread butter on a muffin as if she had all the time in the world. “Oh, the map is at Fort Sumter, of course.” She pointed her butter knife toward the island across the harbor. “It looks like the Romans have arrived to cut you off. I’d get back to your ship in a hurry if I were you. Would you care for some tea cakes to go?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite frankly, Nico has been traumatized by that first go around with Cupid and I'm not interested in redoing that. Especially since it's not really necessary? Like, at this point he's accepted his sexuality and is comfortable. Yeah, he hasn't like formally acknowledged it yet in this series in this timeline, but it's almost like an informal thing where his friends who time traveled with him already know and the way he and Will are kinda lets everyone else know so at this point it's all on him to make a move. And I'm rambling, so let's move on.
> 
> Gahhh, I've got intense loathing feelings for Cupid. Hate him, hate him. I'm on the first four Jason chapters in my House of Hades re-read (yes the same re-read that was supposed to have been finished before I read Tower of Nero, oops) so that's the Cupid scene and I just... HHGGMMMMMM.


	20. Octavian's the Dumb Blonde, Not Me (Annabeth XX)

THEY DIDN’T MAKE IT TO THE SHIP.

Halfway across the dock, three giant eagles descended in front of them. Each deposited a Roman commando in purple and denim with glittering gold armor, sword, and shield. The eagles flew away, and the Roman in the middle, who was scrawnier than the others, raised his visor.

“Surrender to Rome!” Octavian shrieked.

Hazel drew her cavalry sword and grumbled, “Fat chance, Octavian.”

Piper raised her hands in a placating gesture. “Octavian, what happened at camp was a setup. We can explain.”

“Can’t hear you!” Octavian yelled. “Wax in our ears—standard procedure when battling evil sirens. Now, throw down your weapons and turn around slowly so I can bind your hands.”

“Let me skewer him,” Hazel muttered. “Please.”

Annabeth ignored her. She drew her dagger slowly using only two fingers. Then she tossed it as far away as she could into the water.

Octavian made a squeaking sound. “What was that for? I didn’t say toss it! That could’ve been evidence. Or spoils of war!”

Annabeth tried for a dumb-blonde smile, like:  _ Oh, silly me. _ Nobody who knew her would have been fooled. But Octavian seemed to buy it. He huffed in exasperation.

“You other two…” He pointed his blade at Hazel and Piper. “Put your weapons on the dock. No funny bus—”

All around the Romans, Charleston Harbor erupted like a Las Vegas fountain putting on a show. When the wall of seawater subsided, the three Romans were in the bay, spluttering and frantically trying to stay afloat in their armor. Percy stood on the dock, holding Annabeth’s dagger.

“You dropped this,” he said, totally poker-faced.

Annabeth threw her arms around him. “I love you!”

“Guys,” Hazel interrupted. She had a little smile on her face. “We need to hurry.”

Down in the water, Octavian yelled, “Get me out of here! I’ll kill you!”

“Tempting,” Percy called down.

“What?” Octavian shouted. He was holding on to one of his guards, who was having trouble keeping them both afloat.

“Nothing!” Percy shouted back. “Let’s go, guys.”

Hazel frowned. “We can’t let them drown, can we?”

“They won’t,” Percy promised. “I’ve got the water circulating around their feet. As soon as we’re out of range, I’ll spit them ashore.”

Piper grinned. “Nice.”

They climbed aboard the  _ Argo II _ , and Annabeth ran to the helm. “Piper, get below. Use the sink in the galley for an Iris-message. Warn Jason to get back here!”

Piper nodded and raced off.

Alex and Magnus emerged from the cabin. Both wore equally bewildering looks.

“What's going on?” Magnus yelled.

“Hazel, go find Coach Hedge and tell him to get his furry hindquarters on deck!” Annabeth ordered.

“Right!”

“We’re under attack by the Romans,” Annabeth explained to the two Norse demigods. “Percy, you and I need to get this ship to Fort Sumter.”

Percy nodded and ran to the mast. Annabeth took the helm. Her hands flew across the controls. She’d just have to hope she knew enough to operate them.

Annabeth had seen Percy control full-sized sailing ships before with only his willpower. This time, he didn’t disappoint. Ropes flew on their own—releasing the dock ties, weighing the anchor. The sails unfurled and caught the wind. Meanwhile Annabeth fired the engine. The oars extended with a sound like machine-gun fire, and the _ Argo II _ turned from the dock, heading for the island in the distance.

“Dude, what the Hel?” Alex demanded. “Why did we ask you to train Magnus when you would have done a better job joining us?”

Percy’s face was strained, but he managed a grin. “I was supposed to be done with quests. Whoops.”

The three eagles still circled overhead, but they made no attempt to land on the ship, probably because Festus the figurehead blew fire whenever they got close. More eagles were flying in formation toward Fort Sumter—at least a dozen. If each of them carried a Roman demigod… that was a lot of enemies.

Coach Hedge came pounding up the stairs with Hazel at his hooves.

“Where are they?” he demanded. “Who do I kill?”

“No killing!” Annabeth ordered. “Just defend the ship!”

“But they interrupted a Chuck Norris movie!”

Piper emerged from below. “Got a message through to Jason. Kind of fuzzy, but he’s already on his way. He should be—oh! There!”

Soaring over the city, heading in their direction, was a giant bald eagle, unlike the golden Roman birds.

“Frank!” Hazel said.

Leo was holding on to the eagle’s feet, and even from the ship, Annabeth could hear him screaming and cursing. Behind them flew Jason, riding the wind.

“I want to bring all of your cousin’s friends on our next boat trip!” Alex screamed to Magnus.

Magnus winced. “Me too.”

“Look, they’re in trouble!” Piper yelled.

Sure enough, the Roman flying chariot had descended from a cloud and was diving straight toward them. Jason and Frank veered out of the way, pulling up to avoid getting trampled by the pegasi. The charioteers fired their bows. Arrows whistled under Leo’s feet, which led to more screaming and cursing. Jason and Frank were forced to overshoot the  _ Argo II _ and fly toward Fort Sumter.

Alex uttered a curse. “I swear, if all I get to do is turn into animals and fly you guys around.” He ran towards the rail of the  _ Argo II _ transforming into a bald eagle like Frank.

“I’ll get ’em!” yelled Coach Hedge. He spun the port ballista. Before Annabeth could yell, “Don’t be stupid!” Hedge fired. A flaming spear rocketed toward the chariot.

It exploded over the heads of the pegasi and threw them into a panic. Unfortunately it also singed Frank’s wings and sent him spiraling out of control. Leo slipped from his grasp. The chariot shot toward Fort Sumter, slamming into Jason.

Annabeth watched in horror as Jason—obviously dazed and in pain—lunged for Leo, caught him, then struggled to gain altitude. He only managed to slow their fall. They disappeared behind the ramparts of the fort. Frank tumbled after them. Then the chariot dropped somewhere inside and hit with a bone-shattering CRACK! One broken wheel spun into the air.

Alex, who hadn’t gone very far from the ship when Coach Hedge fired, took off in a nosedive towards the three fallen demigods.

“Coach!” Piper screamed.

“What?” Hedge demanded. “That was just a warning shot!”

Annabeth gunned the engines. The hull shuddered as they picked up speed. The docks of the island were only a hundred yards away now, but a dozen more eagles were soaring overhead, each carrying a Roman demigod in its claws.

The  _ Argo II’s _ crew would be outnumbered at least three to one.

“Percy,” Annabeth said, “we’re going to come in hard. I need you to control the water so we don’t smash into the docks. Once we’re there, you’re going to have to hold off the attackers. The rest of you help him guard the ship.”

“What about the others?” Piper asked.

Annabeth glanced in that direction. “Alex and I can take care of that. I’ve got to find the map though.”

“Don’t die,” Percy said.

“Without you?”

“Yeah.”

Annabeth grinned at her boyfriend. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” She kissed him. “Whatever you do, don’t let them take this ship!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all you probably hear this all the time, but do not wait until the last minute to do your homework. Because I waited until today to write two papers. One needed to be four pages long at it was due at midnight. I spent all afternoon writing it. Now I'm working on my three to four page paper that's due at nine am tomorrow and it's not fun. I got the first page done, but I needed a break. Ugh.


	21. Panicked Mortals Save the Day (Annabeth XXI)

THE NEW CIVIL WAR HAD BEGUN.

Leo had somehow escaped his fall unharmed. Annabeth saw him ducking from portico to portico, blasting fire at the giant eagles swooping down on him. Roman demigods tried to chase him, tripping over piles of cannonballs and dodging tourists, who screamed and ran in circles.

Tour guides kept yelling, “It’s just a reenactment!” Though they didn’t sound sure. The Mist could only do so much to change what mortals saw.

In the middle of the courtyard, a full-grown elephant—was that Alex or could that be Frank?—rampaged around the flagpoles, scattering Roman warriors. Jason stood about fifty yards away, sword-fighting with a stocky centurion whose lips were stained cherry red, like blood.

As Annabeth watched, Jason yelled, “Sorry about this, Dakota!” He vaulted straight over the centurion’s head like an acrobat and slammed the hilt of his gladius into the back of the Roman’s head. Dakota crumpled.

“Jason!” Annabeth called.

He scanned the battlefield until he saw her.

She pointed to where the  _ Argo II _ was docked. “Get the others aboard! Retreat!”

“What about you?” he called.

“Don’t wait for me!”

Annabeth bolted off before he could protest.

She had a hard time maneuvering through the mobs of tourists. Why did so many people want to see Fort Sumter on a sweltering summer day? But Annabeth quickly realized the crowds had saved their lives. Without the chaos of all these panicked mortals, the Romans would have already surrounded their outnumbered crew.

Annabeth headed straight for the piece of artillery she knew housed the map. As she ran, a sleepy voice murmured in her head:  _ Soon, my dear. You will meet the weaver soon. _

She ignored Gaea’s voice as best she could, but the earth goddess kept talking.

_ I hope you survive, child, _ Gaea’s voice said.  _ I would prefer you as my sacrifice. But we must let the weaver take her revenge… _

Gaea’s voice faded as Annabeth reached the artillery piece. It was glowing red with the figure of an owl just like on the coin Athena had given her.

_ Go, _ said a new voice—Annabeth’s mother.  _ Avenge me. Follow the Mark. _

All around Annabeth panicked tourists rushed around and demigods battled ferociously, but it was like she existed in her own little bubble. She was safe from the Roman demigods who had formed ranks and were advancing toward the  _ Argo II _ and safe from the miniature storm that had gathered over their heads. Though the day was clear all around them, thunder rumbled, and lightning flashed above the Romans. Rain and wind pushed them back.

Annabeth didn’t stop to think about it. None of it could affect her.

She reached the mortar and put her hand on the muzzle. On the plug that blocked the opening, the Mark of Athena glowed—the red outline of an owl.

Annabeth drew her dagger. As soon as the Celestial bronze touched the plug, the plug shrank and loosened. Annabeth pulled it off and stuck her hand inside the cannon. Her fingers touched something cold, smooth, and metal. She pulled out a small disk of bronze the size of a tea saucer, etched with delicate letters and illustrations. She thrust it in her pack and turned.

“Rushing off?” Reyna asked.

The praetor stood ten feet away, in full battle armor, holding a golden javelin. Her two metal greyhounds growled at her side.

Annabeth scanned the area. They were more or less alone. Most of the combat had moved toward the docks. Hopefully her friends had all made it on board, but they’d have to set sail immediately or risk being overrun. Annabeth had to hurry.

“Reyna,” she said, “what happened at Camp Jupiter was Gaea’s fault. Eidolons, possessing spirits—”

“Save your explanations,” Reyna said. “You’ll need them for the trial.”

The dogs snarled and inched forward.

“If you let Gaea drive our camps apart,” Annabeth said, “the giants have already won. They’ll destroy the Romans, the Greeks, the gods, the whole mortal world.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Reyna’s voice was as hard as iron. “What choice have you left me? Octavian smells blood. He’s whipped the legion into a frenzy, and I can’t stop it. Surrender to me. I’ll bring you back to New Rome for trial. It won’t be fair. You’ll be painfully executed. But it may be enough to stop further violence. Octavian won’t be satisfied, of course, but I think I can convince the others to stand down.”

“It wasn’t me!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Reyna snapped. “Someone must pay for what happened. Let it be you. It’s the better option.”

“I… I can’t,” Annabeth said. “I have a job to do.”

“Use that wisdom of yours,” Reyna said. “If you escape today, we won’t follow. I told you—not even a madman would cross the sea to the ancient lands. If Octavian can’t have vengeance on your ship, he’ll turn his attention to Camp Half-Blood. The legion will march on your territory. We will raze it and salt the earth.”

_ Kill the Romans, _ she heard her mother urging.  _ They can never be your allies. _

“I don’t believe that,” Annabeth said. She wasn’t sure who she was speaking to. Reyna or Athena.

“You must,” Reyna insisted.

“I’m going,” Annabeth told Reyna. “I’m following the Mark of Athena to Rome.”

The praetor shook her head. “You have no idea what awaits you.”

“Yes, I do,” Annabeth said. “This grudge between our camps… I can fix it.”

“Our grudge is thousands of years old. How can one person fix it?”

Annabeth couldn’t fight the grin. “Oh, you’d be surprised. I won’t be able to do all the work of course, but… The quest has to succeed,” she said. “You can try to stop me, in which case we’ll have to fight to the death. Or you can let me go, and I’ll try to save both our camps. If you must march on Camp Half-Blood, at least try to delay. Slow Octavian down.”

Reyna’s eyes narrowed. “One daughter of a war goddess to another, I respect your boldness. But if you leave now, you doom your camp to destruction.”

“If I succeed, neither of our camps will be destroyed,” Annabeth said.

Over by the docks, a familiar voice shrieked over the wind: “Kill them! Kill them all!”

Octavian had survived his swim in the harbor. He crouched behind his guards, screaming encouragement at the other Roman demigods as they struggled toward the ship, holding up their shields as if that would deflect the storm raging all around them.

On the deck of the  _ Argo II, _ Percy and Jason stood together, their swords crossed. Annabeth got a tingle down her spine as she realized the boys were working as one, summoning the sky and the sea to do their bidding. Water and wind churned together. Waves heaved against the ramparts and lightning flashed. Giant eagles were knocked out of the sky. Wreckage of the flying chariot burned in the water, and Coach Hedge swung a mounted crossbow, taking potshots at the Roman birds as they flew overhead.

“You see?” Reyna said bitterly. “The spear is thrown. Our people are at war.”

“Not if I succeed,” Annabeth said.

Annabeth could see that Reyna didn’t really believe that, but the praetor flicked her hand. The metal dogs backed away. “Annabeth Chase,” she said, “when we meet again, we will be enemies on the field of battle.” The praetor turned and walked across the ramparts, her greyhounds behind her.

Annabeth ran for the ship. The winds that battered the Romans didn’t seem to affect her. She sprinted through their lines. Octavian yelled, “Stop her!”

A spear flew past her ear. The  _ Argo II  _ was already pulling away from the dock. Piper was at the gangplank, her hand outstretched. Annabeth leaped and grabbed Piper’s hand. The gangplank fell into the sea, and the two girls tumbled onto the deck.

“Go!” Annabeth screamed. “Go, go, go!”

The engines rumbled beneath her. The oars churned. Jason changed the course of the wind, and Percy called up a massive wave, which lifted the ship higher than the fort’s walls and pushed it out to sea. By the time the  _ Argo II _ reached top speed, Fort Sumter was only a blot in the distance, and they were racing across the waves toward the ancient lands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I choose not to send Annabeth to the spiders? Yes. She's literally preparing to face Arachne and then jump into Hell, I think she's allowed a small break like that.
> 
> And Reyna, you will indeed be surprised by what one person can do. You will indeed.


	22. Set Sail for Chiron's Brothers (Leo XXII)

AFTER RAIDING A MUSEUM FULL OF Confederate ghosts, Leo didn’t think his day could get any worse. He was wrong.

They hadn’t found anything in the Civil War sub or elsewhere in the museum; just a few elderly tourists, a dozing security guard, and—when they tried to inspect the artifacts—a whole battalion of glowing zombie dudes in gray uniforms.

The idea that Frank should be able to control the spirits? Yeah… that pretty much failed. By the time Piper sent her Iris-message warning them about the Roman attack, they were already halfway back to the ship, having been chased through downtown Charleston by a pack of angry dead Confederates.

Then—oh, boy!—Leo got to hitch a ride with Frank the Friendly Eagle so they could fight a bunch of Romans. Rumor must’ve gotten around that Leo was the one who had fired on their little city, because those Romans seemed especially anxious to kill him.

But wait! There was more! Coach Hedge shot them out of the sky; Frank dropped him (that was no accident); and they crash-landed in Fort Sumter.

Now, as the  _ Argo II _ raced across the waves, Leo had to use all his skill just to keep the ship in one piece. Percy and Jason were a little too good at cooking up massive storms.

At one point, Annabeth stood next to him, yelling against the roar of the wind: “Percy says he talked to a Nereid in Charleston Harbor!”

“Good for him!” Leo yelled back.

“The Nereid said we should seek help from Chiron’s brothers.”

“What does that mean? The Party Ponies?” Leo had never met Chiron’s crazy centaur relatives, but he’d heard rumors of Nerf sword-fights, root beer–chugging contests, and Super Soakers filled with pressurized whipped cream.

Annabeth yelled something that sounded like she sneezed. “Put in these coordinates!” She rattled off some numbers. Leo somehow managed to punch them in while holding the wheel with one hand. A red dot popped up on the bronze display screen.

“That location is in the middle of the Atlantic,” he said. “Do the Party Ponies have a yacht?”

“Not the Party Ponies. Just hold the ship together until we get farther from Charleston. Jason and Percy will keep up the winds!”

“Happy fun time!”

It seemed like forever, but finally the sea calmed and the winds died.

“Valdez,” said Coach Hedge, with surprising gentleness. “Let me take the wheel. You’ve been steering for two hours.”

“Two hours?”

“Yeah. Give me the wheel.”

“Coach?”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I can’t unclench my hands.”

It was true. Leo’s fingers felt like they had turned to stone. His eyes burned from staring at the horizon. His knees were marshmallows. Coach Hedge managed to pry him from the wheel.

Leo took one last look at the console, listening to Festus chatter and whir a status report. Leo felt like he was forgetting something. He stared at the controls, trying to think, but it was no good. His eyes could hardly focus.

“Just watch for monsters,” he told the coach. “And be careful with the damaged stabilizer. And—”

“I’ve got it covered,” Coach Hedge promised. “Now, go away!”

Leo nodded wearily. He staggered across the deck toward his friends.

Percy and Jason sat with their backs against the mast, their heads slumped in exhaustion. No, Percy was passed out. Jason was blinking slowly like he was trying not to fall asleep himself. Annabeth and Piper were trying to wake Percy up and get Jason to drink some water respectively.

The two Norse demigods—boy, was that still strange—Magnus and Alex, were silently staring over the water with distant looks. Apparently Percy had rescued them from a prison Alex’s mom was keeping them in. The  _ Argo II _ was supposed to drop them off at Camp Half-Blood before the whole Romans-in-hot-pursuit started. Leo imagined that it couldn’t feel too good knowing they were now trapped on a boat.

Hazel and Frank stood just out of earshot, having an argument that involved lots of arm waving and head shaking. Leo should not have felt pleased about that, but part of him did. The other part of him felt bad that he felt pleased.

The argument stopped abruptly when Hazel saw Leo. Everybody gathered at the mast.

Frank scowled like he was trying hard to turn into a bulldog. “No sign of pursuit,” he said.

“Or land,” Hazel added. She looked a little green, though Leo wasn’t sure if that was from the rocking of the boat or from arguing.

Leo scanned the horizon. Nothing but ocean in every direction. That shouldn’t have surprised him. He’d spent six months building a ship that he knew would cross the Atlantic. But until today, their embarking on a journey to the ancient lands hadn’t seemed real. Leo had never been outside the U.S. before—except for a quick dragon flight up to Quebec. Now they were in the middle of the open sea, completely on their own, sailing to the Mare Nostrum, where all the scary monsters and nasty giants had come from. The Romans might not follow them, but they couldn’t count on any help from Camp Half-Blood, either.

Leo patted his waist to make sure his tool belt was still there. Unfortunately that just reminded him of Nemesis’s fortune cookie, tucked inside one of the pockets.

_ You will always be an outsider.  _ The goddess’s voice still wriggled around in his head.  _ The seventh wheel. _

_ Forget her, _ Leo told himself.  _ Concentrate on the stuff you can fix. _

He turned to Annabeth. “Did you find the map you wanted?”

She nodded. “I’ll have to study it,” she said, as if that was the end of the subject. “How far are we from those coordinates?”

“At top rowing speed, about an hour,” Leo said. “Any idea what we’re looking for?”

Percy yawned at that moment. His eyes were unfocused. “What?”

“We’re sailing towards the coordinates the Nereid gave you,” Annabeth said.

“Oh, right,” Percy said, yawning again. “Chiron’s bros. Something. Nice. Look out for Keto’s babies. ’Spect ‘n’ attack.”

“He should get some sleep,” Magnus said, speaking up for the first time. “If the Nereid is right about Keto sending monsters to attack, everyone needs to be recovered enough to fight.”

Alex glanced at him out of the corners of his eyes. “That was smart.”

“Thank you.”

“Did you hear that from Kayla? Or Will?”

Magnus scowled.

Jason tried to stand, which wasn’t a good idea. Piper grabbed him to keep him from falling over, and he slid back down the mast.

“Can we get the ship aloft?” he asked. “If we could fly—”

“That’d be great,” Leo said. “Except Festus tells me the port aerial stabilizer got pulverized when the ship raked against the dock at Fort Sumter.”

“We were in a hurry,” Annabeth said. “Trying to save you.”

“And saving me is a very noble cause,” Leo agreed. “I’m just saying, it’ll take some time to fix. Until then, we’re not flying anywhere.”

Percy yawned again. “Fine with me. Sea is good.”

“Speak for yourself.” Hazel glanced at the evening sun, which was almost to the horizon. “We need to go fast. We’ve burned another day, and Nico only has three more left.”

“We can do it,” Leo promised. He hoped Hazel had forgiven him for not trusting her brother (hey, it had seemed like a reasonable suspicion to Leo), but he didn’t want to reopen that wound. “We can make it to Rome in three days—assuming, you know, nothing unexpected happens.”

Frank grunted. He looked like he was still working on that bulldog transformation. “Is there any good news?”

“Actually, yes,” Leo said. “According to Festus, our flying table, Buford, made it back safely while we were in Charleston, so those eagles didn’t get him. Unfortunately, he lost the laundry bag with our yucky laundry.”

Frank hmphed. “Well, at least none of it was anything we cared about,” he mumbled.

“Oh gods,” Jason moaned. “The world is spinning. And yellow. I don’t think it’s supposed to be yellow. I’m going to just…” he trailed off and closed his eyes.

Next to him, Percy was lightly snoring.

Annabeth sighed. “Frank, help Piper carry Jason back to his cabin. One of you, help me with Percy?” she said, looking at her cousin and Alex.

Frank glanced at Leo, no doubt reluctant to leave him alone with Hazel.

“It’s fine, man,” Leo said. “Just try not to drop them on the way down the stairs.”

Frank and Piper balanced Jason between them and went belowdecks first. Despite Annabeth only asking one of them for help, both Magnus and Alex went with her to get Percy to his cabin.

Once the others were below, Hazel and Leo faced each other awkwardly. They were alone except for Coach Hedge, who was back on the quarterdeck singing the Pokémon theme song. The coach had changed the words to: Gotta Kill ’Em All, and Leo really didn’t want to know why. The song didn’t seem to help Hazel’s nausea.

“Ugh… ” She leaned over and hugged her sides. She had nice hair—frizzy and golden brown like curls of cinnamon. Her hair reminded Leo of a place in Houston that made excellent churros. The thought made him hungry.

“Don’t lean over,” he advised. “Don’t close your eyes. It makes the queasiness worse.”

“It does? Do you get seasick too?”

“Not seasick. But cars make me nauseous, and…”

He stopped himself. He wanted to say talking to girls, but he decided to keep that to himself.

“Cars?” Hazel straightened with difficulty. “You can sail a ship or fly a dragon, but cars make you sick?”

“I know, right?” Leo shrugged. “I’m special that way. Look, keep your eyes on the horizon. That’s a fixed point. It’ll help.”

Hazel took a deep breath and stared into the distance. Her eyes were lustrous gold, like the copper and bronze disks inside Festus’s mechanical head.

“Any better?” he asked.

“Maybe a little.” She sounded like she was just being polite. She kept her eyes on the horizon, but Leo got the feeling she was gauging his mood, considering what to say.

“Frank didn’t drop you on purpose,” she said. “He’s not like that. He’s just a little clumsy sometimes.”

“Oops,” Leo said, in his best Frank Zhang voice. “Dropped Leo into a squad of enemy soldiers. Dang it!”

Hazel tried to suppress a smile. Leo figured smiling was better than throwing up.

“Go easy on him,” Hazel said. “You and your fireballs make Frank nervous.”

“The guy can turn into an elephant, and I make him nervous?”

Hazel kept her eyes on the horizon. She didn’t look quite so queasy, despite the fact that Coach Hedge was still singing his Pokémon song at the helm.

“Leo,” she said, “about what happened at the Great Salt Lake…”

_ Here it comes, _ Leo thought.

He remembered their meeting with the revenge goddess Nemesis. The fortune cookie in his tool belt started to feel heavier. Leo had met the children of Nemesis at Camp Half-Blood. Ethan Nakamura was kind of intense, but the guy was pretty cool. He’d take Ethan over his mom Nemesis any day.

_ Soon you will face a problem you cannot solve, _ Nemesis had said,  _ though I could help you… for a price. _

Leo had taken the fortune cookie out of his tool belt and turned it in his fingers, wondering what price he would have to pay if he broke it open.

Maybe now was the moment.

“I’d be willing,” he told Hazel. “I could use the fortune cookie to find your brother.”

Hazel looked stunned. “What? No! I mean… I’d never ask you to do that. Not after what Nemesis said about the horrible cost. We barely know each other!”

The barely know each other comment kind of hurt, though Leo knew it was true.

“So… that’s not what you wanted to talk about?” he asked. “Uh, did you want to talk about the holding-hands-on-the-boulder moment? Because—”

“No!” she said quickly, fanning her face in that cute way she did when she was flustered. “No, I was just thinking about the way you tricked Narcissus and those nymphs…”

“Oh, right.” Leo glanced self-consciously at his arm. The HOT STUFF tattoo hadn’t completely faded. “Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“You were amazing,” Hazel said. “I’ve been mulling it over, how much you reminded me of—”

“Sammy,” Leo guessed. “I wish you’d tell me who he is.”

_ I wish I knew why I knew you and Frank would ask me about Sammy, _ he added in his head. The strange deja vu hadn’t gone away. Leo got the feeling there was something he should know, but he hadn’t picked up on.

“Who he was,” Hazel corrected. The evening air was warm, but she shivered. “I’ve been thinking… I might be able to show you.”

“You mean like a photo?”

“No. There’s a sort of flashback that happens to me. I haven’t had one in a long time, and I’ve never tried to make one happen on purpose. But I shared one with Frank once, so I thought…”

Hazel locked eyes with him. Leo started to feel jittery, like he’d been injected with coffee. If this flashback was something Frank had shared with Hazel… well, either Leo didn’t want any part of it, or he definitely wanted to try it. He wasn’t sure which.

“When you say flashback…” He swallowed. “What exactly are we talking about? Is it safe?”

Hazel held out her hand. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this, but I’m sure it’s important. It can’t be a coincidence we met. If this works, maybe we can finally understand how we’re connected.” She hesitated. “Your last name? It’s Valdez?”

“Yeah. Why? Is that a requirement to do this flashback thing?”

Hazel’s smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Leo glanced back at the helm. He still had a nagging suspicion he’d forgotten something, but Coach Hedge seemed to be doing fine. The sky ahead was clear. There was no sign of trouble.

Besides, a flashback sounded like a pretty brief thing. It couldn’t hurt to let the coach be in charge for a few more minutes, could it?

“Okay,” he relented. “Show me.”

He took Hazel’s hand, and the world dissolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, it's kinda bothering me that my chapters aren't even anymore. Annabeth chapter and a Leo chapter. It's so dumb, but it's bothering me. Ahhh. It's fine. Should be offset again in a few more chapters.


	23. I Find Out Who Sammy Is (Leo XXIII)

THEY STOOD IN THE COURTYARD of an old compound, like a monastery. Red brick walls were overgrown with vines. Big magnolia trees had cracked the pavement. The sun beat down, and the humidity was about two hundred percent, even stickier than in Houston. Somewhere nearby, Leo smelled fish frying. Overhead, the cloud cover was low and gray, striped like a tiger’s pelt.

The courtyard was about the size of a basketball court. An old deflated football sat in one corner, at the base of a Virgin Mary statue. Along the sides of the buildings, windows were open. Leo could see flickers of movement inside, but it was eerily quiet. He saw no sign of air conditioning, which meant it must have been a thousand degrees in there.

“Where are we?” he asked.

“My old school,” Hazel said next to him. “St. Agnes Academy for Colored Children and Indians.”

“What kind of name—?”

He turned toward Hazel and yelped. She was a ghost—just a vaporous silhouette in the steamy air. Leo looked down and realized his own body had turned to mist too.

Everything around him seemed solid and real, but he was a spirit. After having been possessed by an eidolon three days ago, he didn’t appreciate the feeling.

Before he could ask questions, a bell rang inside: not a modern electronic sound, but the old- fashioned buzz of a hammer on metal.

“This is a memory,” Hazel said, “so no one will see us. Look, here we come.”

“We?”

From every door, dozens of children spilled into the courtyard, yelling and jostling each other. They were mostly African American, with a sprinkling of Hispanic-looking kids, as young as kindergartners and as old as high schoolers. Leo could tell this was in the past, because all the girls wore dresses and buckled leather shoes. The boys wore white collared shirts and pants held up by suspenders. Many wore caps like horse jockeys wear. Some kids carried lunches. Many didn’t. Their clothes were clean, but worn and faded. Some had holes in the knees of their trousers, or shoes with the heels coming apart.

A few of the girls began playing jump rope with an old piece of clothesline. The older guys tossed a ratty baseball back and forth. Kids with lunches sat together and ate and chatted.

No one paid Ghost Hazel or Leo any attention.

Then Hazel—Hazel from the past—stepped into the courtyard. Leo recognized her with no problem, though she looked about two years younger than now. Her hair was pinned back in a bun. Her gold eyes darted around the courtyard uneasily. She wore a dark dress, unlike the other girls in their white cotton or pastel flowery prints, so she stood out like a mourner at a wedding.

She gripped a canvas lunch bag and moved along the wall, as if trying hard not to be noticed. It didn’t work. A boy called out, “Witch girl!” He lumbered toward her, backing her into a corner.

The boy could have been fourteen or nineteen. It was hard to tell because he was so big and tall, easily the largest guy on the playground. Leo figured he’d been held back a few times. He wore a dirty shirt the color of grease rags, threadbare wool trousers (in this heat, they couldn’t have been comfortable), and no shoes at all. Maybe the teachers were too terrified to insist that this kid wear shoes, or maybe he just didn’t have any.

“That’s Rufus,” said Ghost Hazel with distaste.

“Seriously? No way his name is Rufus,” Leo said.

“Come on,” said Ghost Hazel. She drifted toward the confrontation. Leo followed. He wasn’t used to drifting, but he’d ridden a Segway once and it was kind of like that. He simply leaned in the direction he wanted to go and glided along.

The big kid Rufus had flat features, as if he spent most of his time face-planting on the sidewalk. His hair was cut just as flat on top, so miniature airplanes could’ve used it for a landing strip.

Rufus thrust out his hand. “Lunch.”

Hazel from the past didn’t protest. She handed over her canvas bag like this was an everyday occurrence.

A few older girls drifted over to watch the fun. One giggled at Rufus. “You don’t want to eat that,” she warned. “It’s probably poison.”

“You’re right,” Rufus said. “Did your witch mom make this, Levesque?”

“She’s not a witch,” Hazel muttered.

Rufus dropped the bag and stepped on it, smashing the contents under his bare heel. “You can have it back. I want a diamond, though. I hear your momma can make those out of thin air. Gimme a diamond.”

“I don’t have diamonds,” Hazel said. “Go away.”

Rufus balled his fists. Leo had been in enough rough schools and foster homes to sense when things were about to turn ugly. He wanted to step in and help Hazel, but he was a ghost. Besides, all this had happened decades ago.

Then another kid stumbled outside into the sunlight.

Leo sucked in his breath. The boy looked exactly like him.

“You see?” asked Ghost Hazel.

Fake Leo was the same height as Regular Leo—meaning he was short. He had the same nervous energy—tapping his fingers against his trousers, brushing at his white cotton shirt, adjusting the jockey cap on his curly brown hair. (Really, Leo thought, short people should not wear jockey caps unless they were jockeys.) Fake Leo had the same devilish smile that greeted Regular Leo whenever he looked in a mirror—an expression that made teachers immediately shout, “Don’t even think about it!” and plop him in the front row.

Apparently, Fake Leo had just been scolded by a teacher. He was holding a dunce cap—an honest-to-goodness cardboard cone that said DUNCE. Leo thought those were something you only saw in cartoons. He could understand why Fake Leo wasn’t wearing it. Bad enough to look like a jockey. With that cone on his head, he would’ve looked like a gnome.

Some kids backed up when Fake Leo burst onto the scene. Others nudged each other and ran  toward him like they were expecting a show.

Meanwhile, Flathead Rufus was still trying to punk Hazel out of a diamond, oblivious to Fake Leo’s arrival.

“Come on, girl.” Rufus loomed over Hazel with his fists clenched. “Give it!”

Hazel pressed herself against the wall. Suddenly the ground at her feet went snap, like a twig breaking. A perfect diamond the size of a pistachio glittered between her feet.

“Ha!” Rufus barked when he saw it. He started to lean down, but Hazel yelped, “No, please!” as if she was genuinely concerned for the big goon.

That’s when Fake Leo strolled over.

_ Here it comes, _ Leo thought.  _ Fake Leo is gonna bust out some Coach Hedge–style jujitsu and save the day. _

Instead, Fake Leo put the top of the dunce cap to his mouth like a megaphone and yelled, “CUT!” He said it with such authority all the other kids momentarily froze. Even Rufus straightened and backed away in confusion.

One of the little boys snickered under his breath: “Hammy Sammy.”

_ Sammy… _ Leo shivered.  _ Who the heck was this kid? _

Sammy/Fake Leo stormed up to Rufus with his dunce cap in his hand, looking angry. “No, no, no!” he announced, waving his free hand wildly at the other kids, who were gathering to watch the entertainment.

Sammy turned to Hazel. “Miss Lamarr, your line is…” Sammy looked around in exasperation. “Script! What is Hedy Lamarr’s line?”

“ _ ‘No, please, you villain!’ _ ” one of the boys called out.

“Thank you!” Sammy said. “Miss Lamarr, you’re supposed to say,  _ No, please, you villain! _ And you, Clark Gable—”

The whole courtyard burst into laughter. Leo vaguely knew Clark Gable was an old-timey actor, but he didn’t know much else. Apparently, though, the idea that Flathead Rufus could be Clark Gable was hilarious to the kids.

“Mr. Gable—”

“No!” one of the girls cried. “Make him Gary Cooper.”

More laughter. Rufus looked as if he were about to blow a valve. He balled his fists like he wanted to hit somebody, but he couldn’t attack the entire school. He clearly hated being laughed at, but his slow little mind couldn’t quite work out what Sammy was up to.

Leo nodded in appreciation. Sammy was like him. Leo had done the same kind of stuff to bullies for years.

“Right!” Sammy yelled imperiously. “Mr. Cooper, you say,  _ Oh, but the diamond is mine, my treacherous darling! _ And then you scoop up the diamond like this!”

“Sammy, no!” Hazel protested, but Sammy snatched up the stone and slipped it into his pocket in one smooth move.

He wheeled on Rufus. “I want emotion! I want the ladies in the audience swooning! Ladies, did Mr. Cooper make you swoon just now?”

“No,” several of them called back.

“There, you see?” Sammy cried. “Now, from the top!” he yelled into his dunce cap. “Action!”

Rufus was just starting to get over his confusion. He stepped toward Sammy and said, “Valdez, I’m gonna—”

The bell rang. Kids swarmed the doors. Sammy pulled Hazel out of the way as the little ones—who acted like they were on Sammy’s payroll—herded Rufus along with them so he was carried inside on a tide of kindergartners.

Soon Sammy and Hazel were alone except for the ghosts.

Sammy scooped up Hazel’s smashed lunch, made a show of dusting off the canvas bag, and presented it to her with a deep bow, as if it were her crown. “Miss Lamarr.”

Hazel from the past took her ruined lunch. She looked like she was about to cry, but Leo couldn’t tell if that was from relief or misery or admiration. “Sammy… Rufus is going to kill you.”

“Ah, he knows better than to tangle with me.” Sammy plopped the dunce cap on top of his jockey cap. He stood up straight and stuck out his scrawny chest. The dunce cap fell off.

Hazel laughed. “You are ridiculous.”

“Why, thank you, Miss Lamarr.”

“You’re welcome,  _ my treacherous darling. _ ”

Sammy’s smile wavered. The air became uncomfortably charged. Hazel stared at the ground. “You shouldn’t have touched that diamond. It’s dangerous.”

“Ah, come on,” Sammy said. “Not for me!”

Hazel studied him warily, like she wanted to believe it. “Bad things might happen. You shouldn’t—”

“I won’t sell it,” Sammy said. “I promise! I’ll just keep it as a token of your flavor.”

Hazel forced a smile. “I think you mean  _ token of my favor. _ ”

“There you are! We should get going. It’s time for our next scene:  _ Hedy Lamarr nearly dies of boredom in English class. _ ”

Sammy held out his elbow like a gentleman, but Hazel pushed him away playfully. “Thanks for being there, Sammy.”

“Miss Lamarr, I will  _ always  _ be there for you!” he said brightly. The two of them raced back into the schoolhouse.

Leo felt more like a ghost than ever. Maybe he had actually been an eidolon his whole life, because this kid he’d just seen should have been the  _ real  _ Leo. He was smarter, cooler, and funnier. He flirted so well with Hazel that he had obviously stolen her heart.

No wonder Hazel had looked at Leo so strangely when they first met. No wonder she had said  _ Sammy  _ with so much feeling. But Leo wasn’t Sammy, any more than Flathead Rufus was Clark Gable.

“Hazel,” he said. “I—I don’t—”

The schoolyard dissolved into a different scene.

Hazel and Leo were still ghosts, but now they stood in front of a rundown house next to a drainage ditch overgrown with weeds. A clump of banana trees drooped in the yard. Perched on the steps, an old-fashioned radio played conjunto music, and on the shaded porch, sitting in a rocking chair, a skinny old man gazed at the horizon.

“Where  _ are  _ we?” Hazel asked. She was still only vapor, but her voice was full of alarm. “This isn’t from my life!”

Leo felt as if his ghostly self was thickening, becoming more real. This place seemed strangely familiar.

“It’s Houston,” he realized. “I know this view. That drainage ditch... This is my mom’s old neighborhood, where she grew up. Hobby Airport is over that way.”

“This is  _ your  _ life?” Hazel said. “I don’t understand! How—?”

“You’re asking me?” Leo demanded.

Suddenly the old man murmured, “Ah, Hazel…”

A shock went up Leo’s spine. The old man’s eyes were still fixed on the horizon. How did he know they were here?

“I guess we ran out of time,” the old man continued dreamily. “Well…”

He didn’t finish the thought.

Hazel and Leo stayed very still. The old man made no further sign that he saw them or heard them. It dawned on Leo that the guy had been talking to himself. But then why had he said Hazel’s name?

He had leathery skin, curly white hair, and gnarled hands, like he’d spent a lifetime working in a machine shop. He wore a pale yellow shirt, spotless and clean, with gray slacks and suspenders and polished black shoes. Despite his age, his eyes were sharp and clear. He sat with a kind of quiet dignity. He looked at peace—amused, even, like he was thinking,  _ Dang, I lived this long? Cool! _

Leo was pretty sure he had never seen this man before. So why did he seem familiar? Then he realized the man was tapping his fingers on the arm of his chair, but the tapping wasn’t random. He was using Morse code, just like Leo’s mother used to do with him...and the old man was tapping the same message:  _ I love you. _

The screen door opened. A young woman came out. She wore jeans and a turquoise blouse. Her hair was cut in a short black wedge. She was pretty, but not delicate. She had well-muscled arms and calloused hands. Like the old man’s, her brown eyes glinted with amusement. In her arms was a baby, wrapped in a blue blanket.

“Look,  _ mijo _ ,” she said to the baby. “This is your  _ bisabuelo. Bisabuelo, _ you want to hold him?”

When Leo heard her voice, he sobbed.

It was his mother—younger than he remembered her, but very much alive. That meant the baby in her arms…

The old man broke into a huge grin. He had perfect teeth, as white as his hair. His face crinkled with smile lines. “A boy!  _ Mi bebito, _ Leo!”

“Leo?” Hazel whispered. “That—that’s you? What is  _ bisabuelo _ ?”

Leo couldn’t find his voice.  _ Great-grandfather, _ he wanted to say.

The old man took baby Leo in his arms, chuckling with appreciation and tickling the baby’s chin—and Ghost Leo finally realized what he was seeing.

Somehow, Hazel’s power to revisit the past had found the one event that connected both of their lives—where Leo’s timeline touched Hazel’s.

This old man…

“Oh…” Hazel seemed to realize who he was at the same moment. Her voice became very small, on the verge of tears. “Oh, Sammy, no…”

“Ah, little Leo,” said Sammy Valdez, aged well into his seventies. “You’ll have to be my stunt double, eh? That’s what they call it, I think. Tell her for me. I hoped I would be alive, but, ay, the curse won’t have it!”

Hazel sobbed. “Gaea... Gaea told me that he died of a heart attack, in the 1960s. But this isn’t— this can’t be...”

Sammy Valdez kept talking to the baby, while Leo’s mother, Esperanza, looked on with a pained smile—perhaps a little worried that Leo’s  _ bisabuelo  _ was rambling, a little sad that he was speaking nonsense.

“That lady, Doña Callida, she warned me.” Sammy shook his head sadly. “She said Hazel’s great danger would not happen in my lifetime. But I promised I would be there for her. You will have to tell her I’m sorry, Leo. Help her if you can.”

“ _ Bisabeulo _ ,” Esperanza said, “you must be tired.”

She extended her arms to take the baby, but the old man cuddled him a moment longer. Baby Leo seemed perfectly fine with it.

“Tell her I’m sorry I sold the diamond, eh?” Sammy said. “I broke my promise. When she disappeared in Alaska… ah, so long ago, I finally used that diamond, moved to Texas as I always dreamed. I started my machine shop. Started my family! It was a good life, but Hazel was right. The diamond came with a curse. I never saw her again.”

“Oh, Sammy,” Hazel said. “No, a curse didn’t keep me away. I  _ wanted  _ to come back. I died!”

The old man didn’t seem to hear. He smiled down at the baby, and kissed him on the head. “I give you my blessing, Leo. First male great-grandchild! I have a feeling you are special, like Hazel was. You are more than a regular baby, eh? You will carry on for me. You will see her someday. Tell her hello for me.”

“ _ Bisabuelo _ ,” Esperanza said, a little more insistently.

“Yes, yes.” Sammy chuckled. “ _ El viejo loco _ rambles on. I am tired, Esperanza. You are right. But I’ll rest soon. It’s been a good life. Raise him well,  _ nieta _ .”

The scene faded.

Leo was standing on the deck of the  _ Argo II _ , holding Hazel’s hand. The sun had gone down, and the ship was lit only by bronze lanterns. Hazel’s eyes were puffy from crying.

What they’d seen was too much. The whole ocean heaved under them, and now for the first time Leo felt as if they were totally adrift.

“Hello, Hazel Levesque,” he said, his voice gravelly.

Her chin trembled. She turned away and opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the ship lurched to one side.

“Leo!” Coach Hedge yelled.

Festus whirred in alarm and blew flames into the night sky. The ship’s bell rang.

“Those monsters you were worried about?” Hedge shouted. “One of ’em found us!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops. Someone forgot the sonar again.


	24. Shrimpzilla Attack! (Leo XXIV)

LEO DESERVED A DUNCE CAP.

If he’d been thinking straight, he would’ve switched the ship’s detection system from radar to sonar as soon as they left Charleston Harbor. That’s what he had forgotten. He’d designed the hull to resonate every few seconds, sending waves through the Mist and alerting Festus to any nearby monsters, but it only worked in one mode at a time: water or air.

He’d been so rattled by the Romans, then the storm, then Hazel, that he had completely forgotten. Now, a monster was right underneath them.

The ship tilted to starboard. Hazel gripped the rigging. Hedge yelled, “Valdez, which button blows up monsters? Take the helm!”

Leo climbed the tilting deck and managed to grab the port rail. He started clambering sideways toward the helm, but when he saw the monster surface, he forgot how to move.

The thing was the length of their ship. In the moonlight, it looked like a cross between a giant shrimp and a cockroach, with a pink chitinous shell, a flat crayfish tail, and millipede-type legs undulating hypnotically as the monster scraped against the hull of the  _ Argo II _ . Its head surfaced last—the slimy pink face of an enormous catfish with glassy dead eyes, a gaping toothless maw, and a forest of tentacles sprouting from each nostril, making the bushiest nose beard Leo had ever had the displeasure to behold.

Leo remembered special Friday night dinners he and his mom used to share at a local seafood restaurant in Houston. They would eat shrimp and catfish. The idea now made him want to throw up.

“Come on, Valdez!” Hedge yelled. “Take the wheel so I can get my baseball bat!”

“A bat’s not going to help,” Leo said, but he made his way toward the helm.

Behind him, the rest of his friends stumbled up the stairs.

“Do you guys  _ ever _ run out of monsters?” Alex shouted either in glee or exasperation. Leo couldn’t tell which.

“Shrimpzilla!” Percy yelled.

“Skolopendra,” Annabeth corrected.

Frank ran to Hazel’s side. She was clutching the rigging, still dazed from her flashback, but she gestured that she was all right.

The monster rammed the ship again. The hull groaned. Annabeth, Magnus, Piper, and Jason tumbled to starboard and almost rolled overboard.

Leo reached the helm. His hands flew across the controls. Over the intercom, Festus clacked and clicked about leaks belowdecks, but the ship didn’t seem to be in danger of sinking—at least not yet.

Leo toggled the oars. They could convert into spears, which should be enough to drive the creature away. Unfortunately, they were jammed. Shrimpzilla—or Skolopendra, but Shrimpzilla was easier to say—must have knocked them out of alignment, and the monster was in spitting distance, which meant that Leo couldn’t use the ballistae without setting the  _ Argo II _ on fire as well.

“How did it get so close?” Alex shouted, almost glaring in Annabeth’s and Percy’s directions.

Annabeth scowled, pulling herself up on one of the rail shields. “Don’t look at me!”

“I don’t know!” Hedge snarled. He looked around for his bat, which had rolled across the quarterdeck.

“I’m stupid!” Leo scolded himself. “Stupid, stupid! I forgot the sonar!”

The ship tilted farther to starboard. Either the monster was trying to give them a hug, or it was about to capsize them.

“Sonar?” Hedge demanded. “Pan’s pipes, Valdez! Maybe if you hadn’t been staring into Hazel’s eyes, holding hands for so long—”

“What?” Frank yelped.

“It wasn’t like that!” Hazel protested.

“It doesn’t matter!” Piper said. “Jason, can you call some lightning?”

Jason struggled to his feet. “I—” He only managed to shake his head. Summoning the storm earlier had taken too much out of him. Leo doubted the poor guy could pop a spark plug in the shape he was in.

“You're the son of Poseidon!” Magnus screamed at Percy. “Tell it to stop!”

“I can’t just tell it to  _ stop, _ Magnus,” Percy yelled back. “If it was that easy—”

The monster’s tendrils lashed across the deck so fast, Leo didn’t even have time to yell, _ Look out! _

One slammed Percy in the chest and sent him crashing down the steps, shouting profanities as he went. Another wrapped around Piper’s legs and dragged her, screaming, toward the rail. Dozens more tendrils curled around the masts, encircling the crossbows and ripping down the rigging.

“Nose-hair attack!” Hedge snatched up his bat and leaped into action; but his hits just bounced harmlessly off the tendrils.

Annabeth cursed. “Jason!” she called, running towards Piper. She and Jason cut through the tendrils, trying to free Piper.

Magnus reached up and pulled the pendant off his necklace. Leo blinked as the pendant became a sword.

“What’s going on, señor?” the sword trilled.

“Giant shrimp,” Magnus said. “Attack!”

If swords could glower, the sword glowered. Then a light pink glow seemed to emanate from it. “Who is that  _ babe _ ?”

Magnus glanced around wildly. “What? No, Jack, it’s a monster! Attack it!”

“But is he watching?” the sword—Jack—asked.

“He who?”

“That golden gladius,” Jack swooned.

Magnus sputtered. “Just attack the monster!”

Jack let out a long suffering sigh before launching himself out of Magnus’s hand and towards the onslaught of tendrils. All the while singing.

“Hey, I just met you and this is crazy,” Jack sang at the top of his sword lungs. “But here's my number, so call me maybe. It's hard to look right at you baby. But here's my number, so call me maybe.”

“Gods help us,” Frank muttered, pulling out his bow. He fired over the side at the creature’s body, lodging arrows in the chinks of its shell; but that only seemed to annoy the monster. It bellowed, and rocked the ship. The mast creaked like it might snap off.

“Hey I just met you and this is crazy,” Jack continued. “But here's my number, so call me maybe. And all the other boys try to chase me. But here's my number, so call me maybe.”

“I’m going to kill him,” Magnus mumbled. “Showing off when  _ I’m _ the one that’s going to suffer the consequences.”

Leo tried to push all the weirdness from his brain. He needed to think. They needed more firepower, but they couldn’t use ballistae. They needed to deliver a blast that wouldn’t destroy the ship. But how…?

Leo’s eyes fixed on a supply crate next to Hazel’s feet.

“Hazel!” he yelled. “That box! Open it!”

She hesitated, then saw the box he meant. The label read WARNING. DO NOT OPEN.

“Open it!” Leo yelled again. “Coach, take the wheel! Turn us toward the monster, or we’ll capsize.”

Hedge danced through the tentacles with his nimble goat hooves, smashing away with gusto. He bounded toward the helm and took the controls.

“Hope you got a plan!” he shouted.

“A bad one.” Leo raced toward the mast.

“No such thing as a stupid plan!” Alex yelled. “Just stupid people with plans!”

Leo wasn’t sure if that was supposed to be inspiring or not, but it didn’t exactly fill him with confidence for what he was about to do.

The monster pushed against the  _ Argo II _ . The deck lurched to forty-five degrees. Despite everyone’s efforts, the tentacles were just too numerous to fight. They seemed able to elongate as much as they wanted. Soon they’d have the  _ Argo II _ completely entangled. Percy hadn’t appeared from below. The others were fighting for their lives against nose hair.

“Frank!” Leo called as he ran toward Hazel. “Buy us some time! Can you turn into a shark or something?”

Frank glanced over, scowling; and in that moment a tentacle slammed into the big guy, knocking him overboard.

Hazel screamed. She’d opened the supply box and almost dropped the two glass vials she was holding. Leo caught them. Each was the size of an apple, and the liquid inside glowed poisonous green. The glass was warm to the touch. Leo’s chest felt like it might implode from guilt. He’d just distracted Frank and possibly gotten him killed, but he couldn’t think about it. He had to save the ship.

“Come on!” He handed Hazel one of the vials. “We can kill the monster—and save Frank!”

He hoped he wasn’t lying. Getting to the port rail was more like rock climbing than walking, but finally they made it.

“What is this stuff?” Hazel gasped, cradling her glass vial.

“Greek fire!”

Her eyes widened. “Are you crazy? If these break, we’ll burn the whole ship!”

“Its mouth!” Leo said. “Just chuck it down its—”

Suddenly Leo was crushed against Hazel, and the world turned sideways. As they were lifted into the air, he realized they’d been wrapped together in a tentacle. Leo’s arms were free, but it was all he could do to keep hold of his Greek fire vial. Hazel struggled. Her arms were pinned, which meant at any moment the vial trapped between them might break… and that would be extremely bad for their health.

They rose ten feet, twenty feet, thirty feet above the monster. Leo caught a glimpse of his friends in a losing battle, yelling and slashing at the monster’s nose hairs. He saw Coach Hedge struggling to keep the ship from capsizing. The sea was dark, but in the moonlight he thought he saw a glistening object floating near the monster—maybe the unconscious body of Frank Zhang.

“Leo,” Hazel gasped, “I can’t—my arms—”

“Hazel,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

“No!”

“Me neither,” Leo admitted. “When this thing drops us, hold your breath. Whatever you do, try to chuck your vial as far away from the ship as possible.”

“Why—why would it drop us?”

Leo stared down at the monster’s head. This would be a tough shot, but he had no choice. He raised the vial in his left hand. He pressed his right hand against the tentacle and summoned fire to his palm—a narrowly focused, white-hot burst.

That got the creature’s attention. A tremble went all the way down the tentacle as its flesh blistered under Leo’s touch. The monster raised its maw, bellowing in pain, and Leo threw his Greek fire straight down its throat.

After that, things got fuzzy. Leo felt the tentacle release them. They fell. He heard a muffled explosion and saw a green flash of light inside the giant pink lampshade of the monster’s body. The water hit Leo’s face like a brick wrapped in sandpaper, and he sank into darkness. He clamped his mouth shut, trying not to breathe, but he could feel himself losing consciousness.

Through the sting of the salt water, he thought he saw the hazy silhouette of the ship’s hull above—a dark oval surrounded by a green fiery corona, but he couldn’t tell if the ship was actually on fire.

_ Killed by a giant shrimp, _ Leo thought bitterly.  _ At least let the  _ Argo II _ survive. Let my friends be okay. _

His vision began to dim. His lungs burned.

Just as he was about to give up, a strange face hovered over him—a man who looked like Chiron, their trainer back at Camp Half-Blood. He had the same curly hair, shaggy beard, and intelligent eyes—a look somewhere between wild hippie and fatherly professor, except this man’s skin was the color of a lima bean. The man silently held up a dagger. His expression was grim and reproachful, as if to say:  _ Now, hold still, or I can’t kill you properly. _

Leo blacked out.

* * *

When Leo woke, he wondered if he was a ghost in another flashback, because he was floating weightlessly. His eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light.

“About time.” Frank’s voice had too much reverb, like he was speaking through several layers of plastic wrap.

Leo sat up… or rather he drifted upright. He was underwater, in a cave about the size of a two-car garage. Phosphorescent moss covered the ceiling, bathing the room in a blue-and-green glow. The floor was a carpet of sea urchins, which would have been uncomfortable to walk on, so Leo was glad he was floating. He didn’t understand how he could be breathing with no air.

Frank levitated nearby in meditation position. With his chubby face and his grumpy expression, he looked like a Buddha who’d achieved enlightenment and wasn’t thrilled about it.

The only exit to the cave was blocked by a massive abalone shell—its surface glistening in pearl and rose and turquoise. If this cave was a prison, at least it had an awesome door.

“Where are we?” Leo asked. “Where is everyone else?”

“Everyone?” Frank grumbled. “I don’t know. As far as I can tell, it’s just you and me and Hazel down here. The fish-horse guys took Hazel about an hour ago, leaving me with you.”

Frank’s tone made it obvious he didn’t approve of those arrangements. He didn’t look injured, but Leo realized that he no longer had his bow or quiver. In a panic, Leo patted his waist. His tool belt was gone.

“They searched us,” Frank said. “Took anything that could be a weapon.”

“Who?” Leo demanded. “Who are these fish-horse—?”

“Fish-horse guys,” Frank clarified, which wasn’t very clear. “They must have grabbed us when we fell in the ocean and dragged us… wherever this is.”

Leo remembered the last thing he’d seen before he passed out—the lima-bean-colored face of the bearded man with the dagger. “The shrimp monster. The  _ Argo II _ —is the ship okay?”

“I don’t know,” Frank said darkly. “The others might be in trouble or hurt, or—or worse. But I guess you care more about your ship than your friends.”

Leo felt like his face had just hit the water again. “What kind of stupid thing—?”

Then he realized why Frank was so angry: the flashback. Things had happened so fast with the monster attack, Leo had almost forgotten. Coach Hedge had made that stupid comment about Leo and Hazel holding hands and gazing into each other’s eyes. It probably hadn’t helped that Leo had gotten Frank knocked overboard right after that.

Suddenly Leo found it hard to meet Frank’s gaze.

“Look, man… I’m sorry I got us into this mess. I totally jacked things up.” He took a deep breath, which felt surprisingly normal, considering he was underwater. “Me and Hazel holding hands… it’s not what you think. She was showing me this flashback from her past, trying to figure out my connection with Sammy.”

Frank’s angry expression started to unknot, replaced by curiosity. “Did she… did you figure it out?”

“Yeah,” Leo said. “Well, sort of. We didn’t get a chance to talk about it afterward because of Shrimpzilla, but Sammy was my great-grandfather.”

He told Frank what they’d seen. The weirdness hadn’t fully registered yet, but now, trying to explain it aloud, Leo could hardly believe it. Hazel had been sweet on his  _ bisabuelo _ , a guy who had died when Leo was a baby. Leo hadn’t made the connection before, but he had a vague memory of older family members calling his grandfather Sam Junior. Which meant Sam Senior was Sammy, Leo’s  _ bisabuelo _ . At some point, Tía Callida—Hera herself—had talked with Sammy, consoling him and giving him a glimpse into the future, which meant that Hera had been shaping Leo’s life generations before he was even born. If Hazel had stayed in the 1940s, if she’d married Sammy, Leo might’ve been her great-grandson.

“Oh, man,” Leo said when he had finished the story. “I don’t feel so good. But I swear on the Styx, that’s what we saw.”

Frank had the same expression as the monster catfish head—wide glassy eyes and an open mouth. “Hazel… Hazel liked your great-grandfather? That’s why she likes you?”

“Frank, I know this is weird. Believe me. But I don’t like Hazel—not that way. I’m not moving in on your girl.”

Frank knit his eyebrows. “No?”

Leo hoped he wasn’t blushing. Truthfully, he had no idea how he felt about Hazel. She was awesome and cute, and Leo had a weakness for awesome cute girls. But the flashback had complicated his feelings a lot.

Besides, his ship was in trouble.

_ I guess you care more about your ship than your friends, _ Frank had said.

That wasn’t true, was it? Leo’s dad, Hephaestus, had admitted once that he wasn’t good with organic life forms. And, yes, Leo had always been more comfortable with machines than people. But he did care about his friends. Piper and Jason… he’d known them the longest, but the others were important to him too. Even Frank. They were like family.

The problem was, it had been so long since Leo had had a family, he couldn’t even remember how it felt. Sure, last winter he’d become senior counselor of Hephaestus cabin; but most of his time had been spent building the ship. He liked his cabin mates. He knew how to work with them—but did he really know them?

If Leo had a family, it was the demigods on the  _ Argo II _ —and maybe Coach Hedge, which Leo would never admit aloud.

_ You will always be the outsider, _ warned Nemesis’s voice; but Leo tried to push that thought aside.

“Right, so…” He looked around him. “We need to make a plan. How are we breathing? If we’re under the ocean, shouldn’t we be crushed by the water pressure?”

Frank shrugged. “Fish-horse magic, I guess. I remember the green guy touching my head with the point of a dagger. Then I could breathe.”

Leo studied the abalone door. “Can you bust us out? Turn into a hammerhead shark or something?”

Frank shook his head glumly. “My shape-shifting doesn’t work. I don’t know why. Maybe they cursed me, or maybe I’m too messed up to focus.”

“Hazel could be in trouble,” Leo said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

He swam to the door and ran his fingers along the abalone. He couldn’t feel any kind of latch or other mechanism. Either the door could only be opened by magic or sheer force was required—neither of which was Leo’s specialty.

“I’ve already tried,” Frank said. “Even if we get out, we have no weapons.”

“Hmm…” Leo held up his hand. “I wonder.”

He concentrated, and fire flickered over his fingers. For a split second, Leo was excited, because he hadn’t expected it to work underwater. Then his plan started working a little too well. Fire raced up his arm and over his body until he was completely shrouded in a thin veil of flame. He tried to breathe, but he was inhaling pure heat.

“Leo!” Frank flailed backward like he was falling off a bar stool. Instead of racing to Leo’s aid, he hugged the wall to get as far away as possible.

Leo forced himself to stay calm. He understood what was going on. The fire itself couldn’t hurt him. He willed the flames to die and counted to five. He took a shallow breath. He had oxygen again.

Frank stopped trying to merge with the cave wall. “You’re… you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” Leo grumbled. “Thanks for the assist.”

“I—I’m sorry.” Frank looked so horrified and ashamed it was hard for Leo to stay mad at him. “I just… what happened?”

“Clever magic,” Leo said. “There’s a thin layer of oxygen around us, like an extra skin. Must be self-regenerating. That’s how we’re breathing and staying dry. The oxygen gave the fire fuel—except the fire also suffocated me.”

“I really don’t…” Frank gulped. “I don’t like that fire summoning you do.” He started getting cozy with the wall again.

Leo didn’t mean to, but he couldn’t help laughing. “Man, I’m not going to attack you.”

“Fire,” Frank repeated, like that one word explained everything.

Leo remembered what Hazel had said—that his fire made Frank nervous. He’d seen the discomfort in Frank’s face before, but Leo hadn’t taken it seriously. Frank seemed way more powerful and scary than Leo was.

Now it occurred to him that Frank might have had a bad experience with fire. Leo’s own mom had died in a machine shop blaze. Leo had been blamed for it. He’d grown up being called a freak, an arsonist, because whenever he got angry, things burned.

“Sorry I laughed,” he said, and he meant it. “My mom died in a fire. I understand being afraid of it. Did, uh… did something like that happen with you?”

Frank seemed to be weighing how much to say. “My house… my grandmother’s place. It burned down. But it’s more than that…” He stared at the sea urchins on the floor. “Annabeth said I could trust the crew. Even you.”

“Even me, huh?” Leo wondered how that had come up in conversation. “Wow, high praise.”

“My weakness…” Frank started, like the words cut his mouth. “There’s this piece of firewood—”

The abalone door rolled open.

Leo turned and found himself face-to-face with Lima Bean Man, who wasn’t actually a man at all. Now that Leo could see him clearly, the guy was by far the weirdest creature he’d ever met, and that was saying a lot.

From the waist up, he was more or less human—a thin, bare-chested dude with a dagger in his belt and a band of seashells strapped across his chest like a bandolier. His skin was green, his beard scraggly brown, and his longish hair was tied back in a seaweed bandana. A pair of lobster claws stuck up from his head like horns, turning and snapping at random.

Leo decided he didn’t look so much like Chiron. He looked more like the poster Leo’s mom used to keep in her workspace—that old Mexican bandit Pancho Villa, except with seashells and lobster horns.

From the waist down, the guy was more complicated. He had the forelegs of a blue-green horse, sort of like a centaur, but toward the back, his horse body morphed into a long fishy tail about ten feet long, with a rainbow-colored, V-shaped tail fin.

Now Leo understood what Frank meant about fish-horse guys.

“I am Bythos,” said the green man. “I will interrogate Frank Zhang.”

His voice was calm and firm, leaving no room for debate.

“Why did you capture us?” Leo demanded. “Where’s Hazel?”

Bythos narrowed his eyes. His expression seemed to say:  _ Did this tiny creature just talk to me? _ “You, Leo Valdez, will go with my brother.”

“Your brother?”

Leo realized that a much larger figure was looming behind Bythos, with a shadow so wide, it filled the entire cave entrance.

“Yes,” Bythos said with a dry smile. “Try not to make Aphros mad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, so at the time of posting this... it's the evening of November 3, 2020. So I am going to carry on with my life, for the rest of the night and then see what happened when I wake up tomorrow. Unless, like, my family starts screaming either out of joy or anger and wakes me up.
> 
> On a positive note, I was excited. I got to vote for the first time this year. I wish I could have actually gone to vote in person, but COVID happened. Oh well. It was still a cool experience. Also, there's just something so appealing about coloring in a little circle. Like, it's really fun? I dunno.


	25. We Are Interrogated by the Guys Who Trained Bill (Leo XXV)

APHROS LOOKED LIKE HIS BROTHER, except he was blue instead of green and much, much bigger. He had Arnold-as-Terminator abs and arms, and a square, brutish head. A huge Conan-approved sword was strapped across his back. Even his hair was bigger—a massive globe of blue-black frizz so thick that his lobster-claw horns appeared to be drowning as they tried to swim their way to the surface.

“Is that why they named you Aphros?” Leo asked as they glided down the path from the cave. “Because of the Afro?”

Aphros scowled. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Leo said quickly. At least he would never have trouble remembering which fish dude was which. “So what are you guys, exactly?”

“Ichthyocentaurs,” Aphros said, like it was a question he was tired of answering.

“Uh, icky what?”

“Fish centaurs. We are the half brothers of Chiron.”

“Oh, he’s a friend of mine!”

Aphros narrowed his eyes. “The one called Hazel told us this, but we will determine the truth. Come.”

Leo didn’t like the sound of  _ determine the truth _ . It made him think of torture racks and red-hot pokers.

He followed the fish centaur through a massive forest of kelp. Leo could’ve darted to one side and gotten lost in the plants pretty easily, but he didn’t try. For one thing, he figured Aphros could travel much faster in the water, and the guy might be able to shut off the magic that let Leo move and breathe. Inside or outside the cave, Leo was just as much a captive.

Also, Leo had no clue where he was.

They drifted between rows of kelp as tall as apartment buildings. The green-and-yellow plants swayed weightlessly, like columns of helium balloons. High above, Leo saw a smudge of white that might have been the sun.

He guessed that meant they’d been here overnight. Was the  _ Argo II _ all right? Had it sailed on without them, or were their friends still searching?

Leo couldn’t even be sure how deep they were. Plants could grow here—so not too deep, right?

Still, he knew he couldn’t just swim for the surface. He’d heard about people who ascended too quickly and developed nitrogen bubbles in their blood. Leo wanted to avoid carbonated blood. They drifted along for maybe half a mile. Leo was tempted to ask where Aphros was taking him, but the big sword strapped to the centaur’s back sort of discouraged conversation.

Finally the kelp forest opened up. Leo gasped. They were standing (swimming, whatever) at the summit of a high underwater hill. Below them stretched an entire town of Greek-style buildings on the seafloor.

The roofs were tiled with mother-of-pearl. The gardens were filled with coral and sea anemones. Hippocampi grazed in a field of seaweed. A team of Cyclopes was placing the domed roof on a new temple, using a blue whale as a crane. And swimming through the streets, hanging out in the courtyards, practicing combat with tridents and swords in the arena were dozens of mermen and mermaids—honest-to-goodness fish-people.

Leo had seen a lot of crazy stuff, but he had always thought merpeople were silly fictional creatures, like Smurfs or Muppets.

There was nothing silly or cute about these merpeople, though. Even from a distance, they looked fierce and not at all human. Their eyes glowed yellow. They had sharklike teeth and leathery skin in colors ranging from coral red to ink black.

“It’s a training camp,” Leo realized. He looked at Aphros in awe. “You train heroes, the same way Chiron does?”

Aphros nodded, a glint of pride in his eyes. “We have trained all the famous mer-heroes! Name a mer-hero, and we have trained him or her!”

“Oh, sure,” Leo said. “Like… um, the Little Mermaid?”

Aphros frowned. “Who? No! Like Triton, Glaucus, Weissmuller, and Bill!”

“Oh.” Leo had no idea who any of those people were. “You trained Bill? Impressive.”

“Indeed!” Aphros pounded his chest. “I trained Bill myself. A great merman.”

“You teach combat, I guess.”

Aphros threw up his hands in exasperation. “Why does everyone assume that?”

Leo glanced at the massive sword on the fish-guy’s back. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“I teach music and poetry!” Aphros said. “Life skills! Homemaking! These are important for heroes.”

“Absolutely.” Leo tried to keep a straight face. “Sewing? Cookie baking?”

“Yes. I’m glad you understand. Perhaps later, if I don’t have to kill you, I will share my brownie recipe.” Aphros gestured behind him contemptuously. “My brother Bythos—he teaches combat.”

Leo wasn’t sure whether he felt relieved or insulted that the combat trainer was interrogating Frank, while Leo got the home economics teacher. “So, great. This is Camp… what do you call it? Camp Fish-Blood?”

Aphros frowned. “I hope that was a joke. This is Camp _______.” He made a sound that was a series of sonar pings and hisses.

“Silly me,” Leo said. “And, you know, I could really go for some of those brownies! So what do we have to do to get to the not killing me stage?”

“Tell me your story,” Aphros said.

Leo hesitated, but not for long. Somehow he sensed that he should tell the truth. He started at the beginning—how Hera had been his babysitter and placed him in the flames; how his mother had died because of Gaea, who had identified Leo as a future enemy. He talked about how he had spent his childhood bouncing around in foster homes, until he and Jason and Piper had been taken to Camp Half-Blood. He explained the Prophecy of Seven, the building of the  _ Argo II, _ and their quest to reach Greece and defeat the giants before Gaea woke.

As he talked, Aphros drew some wicked-looking metal spikes from his belt. Leo was afraid he had said something wrong, but Aphros pulled some seaweed yarn from his pouch and started knitting.

“Go on,” he urged. “Don’t stop.”

By the time Leo had explained the eidolons, the problem with the Romans, and all the troubles the  _ Argo II _ had encountered crossing the United States and embarking from Charleston, Aphros had knitted a complete baby bonnet.

Leo waited while the fish centaur put away his supplies. Aphros’s lobster-claw horns kept swimming around in his thick hair, and Leo had to resist the urge to try to rescue them.

“Very well,” Aphros said. “I believe you.”

“As simple as that?”

“I am quite good at discerning lies. I hear none from you. Your story also fits with what Hazel Levesque told us.”

“Is she—?”

“Of course,” Aphros said. “She’s fine.” He put his fingers to his mouth and whistled, which sounded strange underwater—like a dolphin screaming. “My people will bring her here shortly. You must understand… our location is a carefully guarded secret. You and your friends showed up in a warship, pursued by one of Keto’s sea monsters. We did not know whose side you were on.”

“Is the ship all right?”

“Damaged,” Aphros said, “but not terribly. The skolopendra withdrew after it got a mouthful of fire. Nice touch.”

“Thank you. Skolopendra? I think that’s what one of my friends called it. Never seen it before today.”

“Consider yourself lucky. They are nasty creatures. Keto must really hate you. At any rate, we rescued you and the other two from the creature’s tentacles as it retreated into the deep. Your friends are still above, searching for you; but we have obscured their vision. We had to be sure you were not a threat. Otherwise, we would have had to… take measures.”

Leo gulped. He was pretty sure taking measures did not mean baking extra brownies. And if these guys were so powerful that they could keep their camp hidden from Percy, who had all those Poseidon-ish water powers, they were not fish dudes to mess with. “So… we can go?”

“Soon,” Aphros promised. “I must check with Bythos. When he is done talking with your friend Gank—”

“Frank.”

“Frank. When they are done, we will send you back to your ship. And we may have some warnings for you.”

“Warnings?”

“Ah.” Aphros pointed.

Hazel emerged from the kelp forest, escorted by two vicious-looking mermaids, who were baring their fangs and hissing. Leo thought Hazel might be in danger. Then he saw she was completely at ease, grinning and talking with her escorts, and Leo realized that the mermaids were laughing.

“Leo!” Hazel paddled toward him. “Isn’t this place amazing?”

* * *

They were left alone at the ridge, which must have meant Aphros really did trust them. While the centaur and the mermaids went off to fetch Frank, Leo and Hazel floated above the hill and gazed down at the underwater camp.

Hazel told him how the mermaids had warmed up to her right away. Aphros and Bythos had been fascinated by her story, as they had never met a child of Pluto before. On top of that, they had heard many legends about the horse Arion, and they were amazed that Hazel had befriended him.

Hazel had promised to visit again with Arion. The mermaids had written their phone numbers in waterproof ink on Hazel’s arm so that she could keep in touch. Leo didn’t even want to ask how mermaids got cell-phone coverage in the middle of the Atlantic.

As Hazel talked, her hair floated around her face in a cloud—like brown earth and gold dust in a miner’s pan. She looked very sure of herself and very beautiful—not at all like the shy, nervous girl in that New Orleans schoolyard with her smashed canvas lunch bag at her feet.

“We didn’t get to talk,” Leo said. He was reluctant to bring up the subject, but he knew this might be their only chance to be alone. “I mean about Sammy.”

Her smile faded. “I know… I just need some time to let it sink in. It’s strange to think that you and he…”

She didn’t need to finish the thought. Leo knew exactly how strange it was.

“I’m not sure I can explain this to Frank,” she added. “About you and me holding hands.”

She wouldn’t meet Leo’s eyes. Down in the valley, the Cyclopes work crew cheered as the temple roof was set in place.

“I talked to him,” Leo said. “I told him I wasn’t trying to… you know. Make trouble between you two.”

“Oh. Good.”

“Frank, um, seemed pretty freaked out when I summoned fire.” Leo explained what had happened in the cave.

Hazel looked stunned. “Oh, no. That would terrify him.”

Her hand went to her denim jacket, like she was checking for something in the inside pocket. She always wore that jacket, or some sort of overshirt, even when it was hot outside. Leo had assumed that she did it out of modesty, or because it was better for horseback riding, like a motorcycle jacket. Now he began to wonder.

His brain shifted into high gear. He remembered what Frank had said about his weakness… a piece of firewood. He thought about why this kid would have a fear of fire, and why Hazel would be so attuned to those feelings. Leo thought about some of the stories he’d heard at Camp Half-Blood.

For obvious reasons, he tended to pay attention to legends about fire. Now he remembered one he hadn’t thought about in months.

“There was an old legend about a hero,” he recalled. “His lifeline was tied to a stick in a fireplace, and when that piece of wood burned up…”

Hazel’s expression turned dark. Leo knew he’d struck on the truth.

“Frank has that problem,” he guessed. “And the piece of firewood…” He pointed at Hazel’s jacket. “He gave it to you for safekeeping?”

“Leo, please don’t… I can’t talk about it.”

Leo’s instincts as a mechanic kicked in. He started thinking about the properties of wood and the corrosiveness of salt water. “Is the firewood okay in the ocean like this? Does the layer of air around you protect it?”

“It’s fine,” Hazel said. “The wood didn’t even get wet. Besides, it’s wrapped up in several layers of cloth and plastic and—” She bit her lip in frustration. “And I’m not supposed to talk about it! Leo, the point is if Frank seems afraid of you, or uneasy, you’ve got to understand…”

Leo was glad he was floating, because he probably would’ve been too dizzy to stand. He imagined being in Frank’s position, his life so fragile, it literally could burn up at any time. He imagined how much trust it would take to give his lifeline—his entire fate—to another person.

Frank had chosen Hazel, obviously. So when he had seen Leo—a guy who could summon fire at will—moving in on his girl…

Leo shuddered. No wonder Frank didn’t like him. And suddenly Frank’s ability to turn into a bunch of different animals didn’t seem so awesome—not if it came with a big catch like that.

Leo thought about his least favorite line in the Prophecy of Seven:  _ To storm or fire the world must fall. _ For a long time, he’d figured that Jason or Percy stood for storm—maybe both of them together. Leo was the fire guy. Nobody said that, but it was pretty clear. Leo was one of the wild cards. If he did the wrong thing, the world could fall. No… it  _ must  _ fall. Leo wondered if Frank and his firewood had something to do with that line. Leo had already made some epic mistakes. It would be so easy for him to accidentally send Frank Zhang up in flames.

“There you are!” Bythos’s voice made Leo flinch.

Bythos and Aphros floated over with Frank between them, looking pale but okay. Frank studied Hazel and Leo carefully, as if trying to read what they’d been talking about.

“You are free to go,” Bythos said. He opened his saddlebags and returned their confiscated supplies. Leo had never been so glad to fit his tool belt around his waist.

“Tell Percy Jackson not to worry,” Aphros said. “We have understood your story about the imprisoned sea creatures in Atlanta. Keto and Phorcys must be stopped. We will send a quest of mer-heroes to defeat them and free their captives. Perhaps Cyrus?”

“Or Bill,” Bythos offered.

“Yes! Bill would be perfect,” Aphros agreed. “At any rate, we are grateful that Percy brought this to our attention.”

“You should talk to him in person,” Leo suggested. “I mean, son of Poseidon, and all.”

Both fish-centaurs shook their heads solemnly. “Sometimes it is best not to interact with Poseidon’s brood,” Aphros said. “We are friendly with the sea god, of course; but the politics of undersea deities is… complicated. And we value our independence. Nevertheless, tell Percy thank you. We will do what we can to speed you safely across the Atlantic without further interference from Keto’s monsters, but be warned: in the ancient sea, the Mare Nostrum, more dangers await.”

Frank sighed. “Naturally.”

Bythos clapped the big guy on the shoulder. “You will be fine, Frank Zhang. Keep practicing those sea life transformations. The koi fish is good, but try for a Portuguese man-of-war. Remember what I showed you. It’s all in the breathing.”

Frank looked mortally embarrassed. Leo bit his lip, determined not to smile.

“And you, Hazel,” Aphros said, “come visit again, and bring that horse of yours! I know you are concerned about the time you lost, spending the night in our realm. You are worried about your brother, Nico…”

Hazel gripped her cavalry sword. “Is he—do you know where he is?”

Aphros shook his head. “Not exactly. But when you get closer, you should be able to sense his presence. Never fear! You must reach Rome the day after tomorrow if you are to save him, but there is still time. And you must save him.”

“Yes,” Bythos agreed. “He will be essential for your journey. I am not sure how, but I sense it is true.”

Aphros planted his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “As for you, Leo Valdez, stay close to Hazel and Frank when you reach Rome. I sense they will face… ah, mechanical difficulties that only you can overcome.”

“Mechanical difficulties?” Leo asked.

Aphros smiled as if that was great news. “And I have gifts for you, the brave navigator of the  _ Argo II!” _

“I like to think of myself as captain,” Leo said. “Or supreme commander.”

“Brownies!” Aphros said proudly, shoving an old-fashioned picnic basket into Leo’s arms. It was surrounded by a bubble of air, which Leo hoped would keep the brownies from turning into saltwater fudge sludge. “In this basket you will also find the recipe. Not too much butter! That’s the trick. And I’ve given you a letter of introduction to Tiberinus, the god of the Tiber River. Once you reach Rome, your friend, the daughter of Athena, will need this.”

“Annabeth…” Leo said. “Okay, but why?”

Bythos laughed. “She follows the Mark of Athena, doesn’t she? Tiberinus can guide her in this quest. He’s an ancient, proud god who can be… difficult; but letters of introduction are everything to Roman spirits. This will convince Tiberinus to help her. Hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” Leo repeated.

Bythos produced three small pink pearls from his saddlebags. “And now, off with you, demigods! Good sailing!”

He threw a pearl at each of them in turn, and three shimmering pink bubbles of energy formed around them.

They began to rise through the water. Leo just had time to think:  _ A hamster ball elevator? _ Then he gained speed and rocketed toward the distant glow of the sun above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still think it's hilarious that Leo's worried about rising too fast and then the chapter literally ends with them rocketing up to the surface like Percy, Annabeth, and Grover in the Lightning Thief.


	26. Hazel is Introduced to the Family (Piper XXVI)

PIPER HAD A NEW ENTRY in her top-ten list of Times Piper Felt Useless.

Fighting Shrimpzilla with a dagger and a pretty voice? Not so effective. Then the monster had sunk into the deep and disappeared along with three of her friends, and she’d been powerless to help them.

Afterward, Annabeth, Coach Hedge, and Buford the table rushed around repairing things so that the ship wouldn’t sink. Magnus—and she wasn’t quite sure what the deal was with him—passed out as soon as he recovered his flying sword. Percy, despite being exhausted, searched the ocean for their missing friends. Jason, also exhausted, flew around the rigging like a blond Peter Pan, putting out fires from the second green explosion that had lit up the sky just above the mainmast. Even Alex was helpful, turning into a dolphin so he could help Percy search.

As for Piper, all she could do was stare at her knife Katoptris, trying to locate Leo, Hazel, and Frank. The only images that came to her were ones she didn’t want to see: three black SUVs driving north from Charleston, packed with Roman demigods, Reyna sitting at the wheel of the lead car. Giant eagles escorted them from above. Every so often, glowing purple spirits in ghostly chariots appeared out of the countryside and fell in behind them, thundering up I-95 toward New York and Camp Half-Blood.

Piper concentrated harder. She saw the nightmarish images she had seen before: the human-headed bull rising from the water, then the dark well-shaped room filling with black water as Jason, Percy, Magnus, and she struggled to stay afloat.  She sheathed Katoptris, wondering how Helen of Troy had stayed sane during the Trojan War, if this blade had been her only source of news. Then she remembered that everyone around Helen had been slaughtered by the invading Greek army. Maybe she hadn’t stayed sane.

By the time the sun rose, none of them had slept. Percy had scoured the seafloor and found nothing. The  _ Argo II _ was no longer in danger of sinking, though without Leo, they couldn’t do full repairs. The ship was capable of sailing, but no one suggested leaving the area—not without their missing friends.

Piper and Annabeth sent an Iris Message to Camp Half-Blood, warning Chiron of what had happened with the Romans at Fort Sumter. Annabeth explained her exchange of words with Reyna. Piper relayed the vision from her knife about the SUVs racing north.

The kindly centaur’s face seemed to age thirty years during the course of their conversation, but he assured them he would see to the defenses of the camp. Tyson, Mrs. O’Leary, and Ella had arrived safely. If necessary, Tyson could summon an army of Cyclopes to the camp’s defense, and Ella and Rachel Dare were already comparing prophecies, trying to learn more about what the future held. The job of the seven demigods aboard the  _ Argo II, _ Chiron reminded them, was to finish the quest and come back safely.

After the Iris-message, the demigods paced the deck in silence, staring at the water and hoping for a miracle.

When it finally came—three giant pink bubbles bursting at the surface off the starboard bow and ejecting Frank, Hazel, and Leo—Piper went a little crazy. She cried out with relief and dove straight into the water.

What was she thinking? She didn’t take a rope or a life vest or anything. But at the moment, she was just so happy that she paddled over to Leo and kissed him on the cheek, which kind of surprised him.

“Miss me?” Leo laughed.

Piper was suddenly furious. “Where were you? How are you guys alive?”

“Long story,” he said. A picnic basket bobbed to the surface next to him. “Want a brownie?”

* * *

Once they got on board and changed into dry clothes the crew all gathered on the quarterdeck for a celebratory breakfast—except for Coach Hedge, who grumbled that the atmosphere was getting too cuddly for his tastes and went below to hammer out some dents in the hull. While Leo fussed over his helm controls, Hazel and Frank related the story of the fish-centaurs and their training camp.

“Incredible,” Jason said. “These are really good brownies.”

“That’s your only comment?” Piper demanded.

He looked surprised. “What? I heard the story. Fish-centaurs. Merpeople. Letter of intro to the Tiber River god. Got it. But these brownies—”

“I know,” Frank said, his mouth full. “Try them with Esther’s peach preserves.”

“That,” Hazel said, “is incredibly disgusting.”

“Pass me the jar, man,” Jason said.

Hazel and Piper exchanged a look of total exasperation.  _ Boys. _

“I still can’t believe they didn’t want to meet me,” Percy sighed.

Annabeth patted his arm. “Guess you aren’t their type either.”

Percy choked on the bite of brownie and peach preserve in his mouth.

“What?” Leo asked.

“Nico likes to tease Percy about that,” Annabeth said with a small smile. “Ah, someone told Percy that he wasn’t their type. Nico hasn’t let it go.”

Hazel looked a bit more cheerful and the mention of something her brother liked. “Well, it wasn’t that,” she said. “Just… undersea politics, I guess. The merpeople are territorial. The good news is they’re taking care of that aquarium in Atlanta. And they’ll help protect the  _ Argo II _ as we cross the Atlantic.” Her smile faded. “But after today, Nico has less than two days. The fish-centaurs said we have to rescue him. He’s essential to the quest somehow.”

She looked around defensively, as if waiting for someone to argue. No one did. Piper tried to imagine what Nico di Angelo was feeling, stuck in a jar with only two pomegranate seeds left to sustain him, and no idea whether he would be rescued. It made Piper anxious to reach Rome, even though she had a horrible feeling she was sailing toward her own sort of prison—a dark room filled with water.

“Nico must have information about the Doors of Death,” Piper said. “We’ll save him, Hazel. We can make it in time. Right, Leo?”

“What?” Leo tore his eyes away from the controls. “Oh, yeah. We should reach the Mediterranean tomorrow morning. Then spend the rest of that day sailing to Rome, or flying, if I can get the stabilizer fixed by then…”

Jason suddenly looked as though his brownie with peach preserves didn’t taste so good. “Which will put us in Rome on the last possible day for Nico. Twenty-four hours to find him—at most.”

A rainbow shimmered in front of Annabeth who looked startled like someone was going off-script and she wasn’t sure what to do.

A girl with olive skin and a splash of freckles across her nose appeared in the rainbow. Her brown eyes shone with worry and her brown hair was disheveled. Piper recognized her from Camp Half-Blood.

“-not to bother them,” a male voice said from somewhere behind the girl.

Bianca di Angelo rolled her eyes. “Don’t act like you aren’t worried, Will.” She turned her attention to Annabeth. “Sorry. Chiron said you contacted him earlier.”

Annabeth regained her composure. “Yes. Hi, Bianca.”

Hazel’s head snapped up. “Bianca? Nico’s sister Bianca?”

Bianca looked confused. “Yes? Um, you know my brother?”

“Oh boy, you should have told me to make popcorn because the Greek family drama is primetime stuff,” Alex muttered.

“Bianca,” Annabeth interrupted. “This is Hazel Levesque and Frank Zhang from Camp Jupiter.”

“Nice to meet you,” Bianca said, nodding to them.

A mop of blonde hair pushed its way into view on the IM. Will Solace grinned at them.

“Hi, Hazel and Frank,” he said. “I’m Will Solace, son of Apollo.”

Bianca huffed. “Gods. I thought you said this was a waste of time.”

“Well, you already IM’d them so it's not like it can hurt anymore.”

“Anyway,” Annabeth said loudly. “Bianca, Frank’s a son of Mars, the Roman equivalent of Ares. Hazel here is a daughter of Pluto. The Roman form of Hades.”

Bianca’s face was comical. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open in a perfect o.

Hazel offered Bianca a nervous smile.

“Sister!” Bianca exclaimed. A large grin worked its way onto her face. “You’re my sister. I… well, I wish I could meet you in person, but this will have to do for now. Uh, but you know Nico already? Is he there? I’m not trying to be rude, I’m really excited to see you, but I haven’t seen my brother in weeks.”

Hazel’s face fell. “Oh. No, he’s not here.”

“You found Bianca?” Percy shouted. “When was someone going to tell me this?”

Piper noticed for the first time how shocked Percy looked. She supposed that he would have known she was missing, but since Hera had kidnapped him, he wouldn’t have been there when she was found.

“Maggie and I found her in December,” Alex said. He was sitting back in his chair, watching the scene unfold.

“Hi, Percy,” Bianca said with a small smile. “Good to see you again.”

“You too,” Percy said. “You know, alive and well.”

Bianca laughed, but it sounded forced. “So? Nico?”

“We’re on our way to find him right now,” Annabeth assured her.

“What happened?” Will asked.

Percy glanced at Annabeth. Then he looked back at the IM. “Nico went looking for the Doors, but he got captured. That’s where we’re heading now.”

“Why the Hades did he do that?” Will shouted. “He went to—” he cut himself off. “Why would he do this?”

“We don’t know,” Piper spoke up. “We think he found them though.”

“Of course he found them,” Will scowled. “I—” he shook his head. “Sorry, Bianca, I have to go.” He disappeared from the message.

“What’s his deal?” Leo asked.

“Will’s friends with Nico,” Bianca said quietly. Her voice shook. “He’s just worried. I… I am too. But, uh,” she snorted, “I count more than seven of you.”

“Magnus and I were supposed to get dropped off at Camp, but the Romans were in hot pursuit,” Alex said. “So we’re stuck with these _meinfretrs_ for a while.”

Bianca giggled. “Yeah, okay. Well, I’m really sorry to bother you, but I was just… please get my brother back safely?”

“Promise,” Percy said firmly. “Nico’s coming back to you.”

The line of the prophecy rang in Piper’s ears.  _ An oath to keep with a final breath. _ She really wished Percy hadn’t promised something like that.

Annabeth waved a hand through the Iris Message and Bianca’s face dissolved. Everyone sat there in silence for a few minutes.

“Well, the, uh, the Mark of Athena,” Annabeth said, breaking the silence. “The map shows a location where I guess I have to meet Tiberinus.”

“And this will lead you to a giant statue?” Frank asked.

Annabeth dug into her pocket and brought out a silver drachma. “I’ve been carrying this ever since I saw my mom at Grand Central. It’s an Athenian coin.”

She passed it around. While each demigod looked at it, Piper had a ridiculous memory of show-and-tell in elementary school.

“An owl,” Leo noted. “Well, that makes sense. I guess the branch is an olive branch? But what’s this inscription, ΑΘΕ—Area Of Effect?”

“It’s alpha, theta, epsilon,” Annabeth said. “In Greek it stands for Of The Athenians… or you could read it as the children of Athena. It’s sort of the Athenian motto.”

“Like SPQR for the Romans,” Piper guessed.

Annabeth nodded. “Anyway, the Mark of Athena is an owl, just like that one. It appears in fiery red. I’ve seen it in my dreams. Then at Fort Sumter.”

She described what had happened at the fort—the voice of Gaea, the Mark leading her to the hiding place of the map. Piper could tell it wasn’t easy for her to talk about.

“And when I get to Rome,” Annabeth said, “I’ll have to strike out on my own. Otherwise the Mark won’t appear. I’ll have to follow it to… to the source.”

“Find the Athena Parthenos and heal the rift,” Jason said. He made it sound so simple.

Frank took the coin from Leo. He stared at the owl. “ _ The giants’ bane stands gold and pale / Won with pain from a woven jail. _ ” He looked up at Annabeth. “What’s at the source? Other than the statue, I mean.”

Annabeth’s face was pale. “Leave that to me.”

“How are you supposed to move a forty foot statue?” Piper asked. “I mean, you’re strong, Annabeth, but not that strong.”

“Everything will work out,” Annabeth said. “Let me handle getting to the statue. I have to do this on my own.”

Piper stared at Annabeth with awe, just starting to appreciate the huge responsibility her friend had taken on. And Annabeth meant to do it alone.

“This could change everything,” Piper said. “It could end thousands of years of hostility. It might be the key to defeating Gaea. But if we can’t help you...”

She didn’t finish, but the question seemed to hang in the air: Was saving the statue even possible?

Annabeth squared her shoulders. Piper knew she must be terrified inside, but she did a good job hiding it.

“I have to succeed,” Annabeth said simply. “The risk is worth it.”

Hazel twirled her hair pensively. “I don’t like the idea of you risking your life alone, but you’re right. We saw what recovering the golden eagle standard did for the Roman legion. If this statue is the most powerful symbol of Athena ever created—”

“It could kick some serious booty,” Leo offered.

Hazel frowned. “That wasn’t the way I’d put it, but yes.”

“Can we at least help you prepare for this?” Alex asked. His face was a mask of calmness, but Piper thought she could detect a bit of concern and irritation. “I’d feel better if there was some sort of plan.”

Annabeth clenched her fists. Her knuckles turned white. Piper suspected that Annabeth knew what awaited her… or at least that she had a very good idea. She was trying to hold down a wave of panic and terror.

“We’ll deal with that when we get to Rome,” Piper suggested, putting a little charmspeak in her voice to soothe her friend’s nerves. “It’s going to work out. Annabeth is going to kick some serious booty, too. You’ll see.”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “I learned a long time ago: Never bet against Annabeth.”

Annabeth looked at them both gratefully.

Judging from their half-eaten breakfasts, the others still felt uneasy; but Leo managed to shake them out of it. He pushed a button, and a loud blast of steam exploded from Festus’s mouth, making everyone jump.

“Well!” he said. “Good pep rally, but there’s still a ton of things to fix on this ship before we get to the Mediterranean. Please report to Supreme Commander Leo for your superfun list of chores!”

* * *

Piper and Jason took charge of cleaning the lower deck, which had been thrown into chaos during the monster attack. Reorganizing sickbay and battening down the storage area took them most of the day, which gave Piper ample amount of opportunity to think.

There was something not quite right about all this. And it had to do with the weird visions she saw from time to time. Not the visions in her dagger, but the strange memory flashbacks. She had a sneaking suspicion that Annabeth knew more than she was letting on about those visions.

She swept the hay into piles. Jason fixed a broken door on one of the stables. The glass floor hatch glowed from the ocean below—a green expanse of light and shadow that seemed to go down forever. Piper kept glancing over, afraid she’d see a monster’s face peeping in, or the water cannibals from her grandfather’s old stories; but all she saw was an occasional school of herring.

And another thing. The tea party in Charleston. Annabeth talked to Aphrodite like the goddess had done something to personally offend her. Something about Nico, but Piper wasn’t sure what exactly.

Besides, it brought up bad thoughts.

Piper wasn’t sure, but she wished her mom hadn’t appeared in Charleston. Regular mothers were embarrassing enough. Godly glamour moms who invited your friends over for tea and guy talk—that was just mortifying.

Aphrodite had paid so much attention to Annabeth and Hazel, it had made Piper uneasy. When her mom got interested in somebody’s love life, usually that was a bad sign. It meant trouble was coming. Or as Aphrodite would say, twists and turns.

But also, Piper was secretly hurt not to have her mother to herself. Aphrodite had barely looked at her. All she had said was:  _ That’s what you get when a non love god tries to create love. _ As if some goddess hadn’t completely ruined Piper’s love life.

Sure, Jason and her were trying to figure themselves out, but the casual dismissal from Aphrodite hurt. Did that mean that it was no longer a possibility? Did Piper even  _ want _ it to be a possibility?

If only she knew more about making relationships work. She was supposed to be an expert, being a daughter of Aphrodite. Other campers at Camp Half-Blood came to the Aphrodite cabin for advice all the time. Piper had tried to do her best, but she was clueless about her own love life. Why did it have to be so hard? Why couldn’t there be a happily-ever-after-ride-into-the-sunset feeling all the time?

“What are you thinking?” Jason asked.

Piper realized she’d been making a sour face. In the reflection of the glass bay doors, she looked like she’d swallowed a teaspoon of salt.

“Nothing,” she said. “I mean… a lot of things. Kind of all at once.”

Jason laughed. The scar on his lip almost disappeared when he smiled. Considering all the stuff he’d been through, it was amazing that he could be in such a good mood.

“It’s going to work out,” he promised. “You said so yourself.”

“Yeah,” Piper agreed. “Except I was just saying that to make Annabeth feel better.”

Jason shrugged. “Still, it’s true. We’re almost to the ancient lands. We’ve left the Romans behind.”

“And now they’re on their way to Camp Half-Blood to attack our friends.”

Jason hesitated, as if it was hard for him to put a positive spin on that. “Chiron will find a way to stall them. The Romans might take weeks to actually find the camp and plan their attack. Besides, Reyna will do what she can to slow things down. She’s still on our side. Annabeth believes she is. You know, it’s hard to argue against her when she’s so determined about it.”

Piper stilled. “Why is she so sure? I mean, sure, Reyna’s cool and all, but… Annabeth is so firm about it. I want to believe Reyna will help us, but…”

The vision exploded to the front of Piper’s mind.

“ _ She mentioned something in the dream—she’s expecting me to go to a certain place on our way to the House of Hades,” Jason said. “I—I’d forgotten about it, actually, but she’s right. It’s a place I need to visit.” _

_ “Croatia used to be Dalmatia,” Nico said. “A major Roman province. You want to visit Diocletian’s Palace, don’t you?” _

_ “Nico is right,” Jason said. “I need to go to Diocletian’s Palace. It’s where Reyna will go first, because she knows I would go there.” _

_ Piper raised an eyebrow. “And why would Reyna think that? Because you’ve always had a mad fascination with Croatian culture?” _

“Piper!”

Jason’s voice brought Piper back to reality. He peered down at her—somehow she had ended up sitting on the floor—with concern.

“I’m fine,” Piper said distantly. “Do you think there’s something Annabeth isn’t telling us?”

“About the Mark? Yeah, but I think that’s mostly so she doesn’t have to spend too much time thinking about it.”

“No, I mean…” Piper tried to find the words to describe it. “About the visions. Your dreams.”

Jason’s face darkened. “Oh.”

“Jason, what if these really are memories,” Piper whispered. “Maybe the Fates are blessing us with future knowledge. We deserve that kind of a break, don’t we?”

“I don’t know what it is, but I do know that we are going to figure this out as a team,” Jason said. “I trust Annabeth, even after the Norse thing. And if she knows more than she’s telling us, then I have to trust that it’s for a good reason. Just like waiting to tell us about the Norse gods was the right choice.”

“Okay,” Piper said.

Above them, the ship’s bell rang for dinner.

“We should get up there,” Jason said. “But if you want to talk about the visions more, you can always come to me.”

“I know,” Piper said, giving Jason a small smile. “And I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh, Piper's getting really close to the real answer. And Bianca and Hazel have finally met! Well, they've seen each other through an IM at least. An actual meeting? That's later.


	27. We Probably Should Have Let Percy Fight Him (Piper XXVII)

THE NEXT MORNING PIPER WOKE to a different ship’s horn—a blast so loud it literally shook her out of bed.

She wondered if Leo was pulling another joke. Then the horn boomed again. It sounded like it was coming from several hundred yards away—from another vessel. She rushed to get dressed. By the time she got up on deck, the others had already gathered—all hastily dressed except for Coach Hedge, who had pulled the night watch.

Frank’s Vancouver Winter Olympics shirt was inside out. Percy wore pajama pants and a bronze breastplate, which was an interesting fashion statement. Hazel’s hair was all blown to one side, as though she’d walked through a cyclone; and Leo had accidentally set himself on fire. His T-shirt was in charred tatters. His arms were smoking. Alex’s green hair was sticking up in random places, but the garrote made the Norse demigod the most fearsome pajama warrior Piper had ever seen.

About a hundred yards to port, a massive cruise ship glided past. Tourists waved at them from fifteen or sixteen rows of balconies. Some smiled and took pictures. None of them looked surprised to see an Ancient Greek trireme. Maybe the Mist made it look like a fishing boat, or perhaps the cruisers thought the _ Argo II  _ was a tourist attraction.

The cruise ship blew its horn again, and the  _ Argo II _ had a shaking fit.

Coach Hedge plugged his ears. “Do they have to be so loud?”

“They’re just saying hi,” Frank speculated.

“WHAT?” Hedge yelled back.

The ship edged past them, heading out to sea. The tourists kept waving. If they found it strange that the  _ Argo II _ was populated by half-asleep kids in armor and pajamas and a man with goat legs, they didn’t let on.

“Bye!” Leo called, raising his smoking hand.

“Can I man the ballistae?” Hedge asked.

“No,” Leo said through a forced smile.

Magnus yawned. “Go back to sleep now?”

“Aww, did your beauty sleep get interrupted?” Alex teased.

“Yes,” Magnus said, rubbing his eyes. “I barely got any rest.”

Frank stared at him. “You passed out after the Shrimpzilla incident and haven’t been up since.”

Magnus scowled. “And I barely rested enough to recover from Jack showing off for his stupid gladius crush or whatever.”

Jason blinked. “Excuse me? Gladius crush?”

“He has a sword that likes to date other weapons,” Alex informed them. “Guess your gladius is next.”

Hazel rubbed her eyes. “I’m not going to pretend to understand that.” She looked across the glittering green water. “Where are—oh… Wow.”

Piper followed her gaze and gasped. Without the cruise ship blocking their view, she saw a mountain jutting from the sea less than half a mile to the north. Piper had seen impressive cliffs before. She’d driven Highway 1 along the California coast. She’d even fallen down the Grand Canyon with Jason and flown back up. But neither was as amazing as this massive fist of blinding white rock thrust into the sky. On one side, the limestone cliffs were almost completely sheer, dropping into the sea over a thousand feet below, as near as Piper could figure. On the other side, the mountain sloped in tiers, covered in green forest, so that the whole thing reminded Piper of a colossal sphinx, worn down over the millennia, with a massive white head and chest, and a green cloak over its back.

“The Rock of Gibraltar,” Annabeth said. “At the tip of Spain. And over there—” She pointed south, to a more distant stretch of red and ochre hills. “That must be Africa. We’re at the mouth of the Mediterranean.”

The morning was warm, but Piper shivered. Despite the wide stretch of sea in front of them, she felt like she was standing at an impassable barrier. Once in the Mediterranean—the Mare Nostrum—they would be in the ancient lands. If the legends were true, their quest would become ten times more dangerous.

“What now?” she asked. “Do we just sail in?”

“Why not?” Leo said. “It’s a big shipping channel. Boats go in and out all the time.”

_ Not triremes full of demigods, _ Piper thought.

Annabeth gazed at the Rock of Gibraltar. Piper recognized that brooding expression on her friend’s face. It almost always meant that she anticipated trouble.

“In the old days,” Annabeth said, “they called this area the pillars of Hercules. The Rock was supposed to be one pillar. The other was one of the African mountains. Nobody is sure which one.”

“Hercules,” Percy scowled. “I don’t like that guy.”

A thunderous boom shook the  _ Argo II,  _ though Piper wasn’t sure where it came from this time. She didn’t see any other ships, and the skies were clear.

Her mouth suddenly felt dry. “So… these Pillars of Hercules. Are they dangerous?”

Annabeth stayed focused on the white cliffs, as if waiting for the Mark of Athena to blaze to life. “For Greeks, the pillars marked the end of the known world. The Romans said the pillars were inscribed with a Latin warning—”

“Non plus ultra,” Percy said.

“Yeah,” Annabeth nodded. “Nothing Further Beyond.” She stared directly ahead of them where an island had shimmered into existence.

Piper was positive no island had been there before. It was a small hilly mass of land, covered in forests and ringed with white beaches. Not very impressive compared to Gibraltar, but in front of the island, jutting from waves about a hundred yards offshore, were two white Grecian columns as tall as the Argo’s masts. Between the columns, huge silver words glittered underwater—maybe an illusion, or maybe inlaid in the sand: NON PLUS ULTRA.

“Guys, do I turn around?” Leo asked nervously. “Or…”

No one answered—maybe because, like Piper, they had noticed the figure standing on the beach.

As the ship approached the columns, she saw a dark-haired man in purple robes, his arms crossed, staring intently at their ship as if he were expecting them. Piper couldn’t tell much else about him from this distance, but judging from his posture, he wasn’t happy.

Frank inhaled sharply. “Could that be—?”

“Hercules,” Jason said. “The most powerful demigod of all time.”

_ The Argo II _ was only a few hundred yards from the columns now.

“Need an answer,” Leo said urgently. “I can turn, or we can take off. The stabilizers are working again. But I need to know quick—”

“We have to keep going,” Annabeth said. “I think he’s guarding these straits. If that’s really Hercules, sailing or flying away wouldn’t do any good. He’ll want to talk to us.”

Piper resisted the urge to use charmspeak. She wanted to yell at Leo:  _ Fly! Get us out of here! _

Unfortunately, she had a feeling that Annabeth was right. If they wanted to pass into the Mediterranean, they couldn’t avoid this meeting.

“Won’t Hercules be on our side?” she asked hopefully. “I mean… he’s one of us, right?”

Jason grunted. “He was a son of Zeus, but when he died, he became a god. You can never be sure with gods.”

“Besides, the guy was a total jerk before he was a god,” Percy said darkly.

Magnus gave Percy an odd look. “Dude, what’s your problem with Hercules?”

“You remember Zoë Nightshade?” Percy asked him.

“The Hunter who died on the quest? Yeah, I remember her.”

Percy pulled out his pen. He stared at it. “Zoë gave this to Hercules to help him with one of his Labors. Getting the apple from the tree. He broke her heart and she never got any credit for helping him. Her family shunned her for betraying her father Atlas, so she joined the Hunt. Do not ask me to forgive the guy.” He put Riptide back in his pocket. “But if we have to go talk with him, I’ll gladly go. I want to give him a piece of my mind.”

“You want to fight a god?” Frank yelped.

“And not just any god, but Hercules?” Leo added. “I mean, the dude sounds like a world class jerk, but it’s Hercules. Literally the strongest dude ever.”

“I fought Ares when I was twelve and I fought Kronos himself last summer,” Percy said flatly. “I think I can manage Hercules.”

Annabeth was quick to jump in. “Okay, I hate him as much as you, Percy, but fighting him is not going to get us past the entrance. We’ll send ambassadors ashore. Jason, you’re both sons of Zeus or Jupiter, and Piper, you’re good with words.

Piper tried to avoid screaming and jumping over the side. A bad premonition gnawed at her gut. But if Jason was going ashore, she wanted to be with him. Maybe this hugely powerful god would turn out to be helpful. They had to have good luck once in a while, didn’t they?

“Fine,” she said. “Just let me change my clothes.”

* * *

Annabeth had some parting words for them as Leo anchored the  _ Argo II _ .

“Be careful,” she warned. “Don’t do anything to anger him.”

“You think that’s our intention?” Piper joked, but there was no humor in Annabeth’s expression.

Her gray eyes darted towards Hercules. “Just be careful.”

Once Leo had anchored the  _ Argo II _ between the pillars, Jason summoned the wind to carry him and Piper ashore.

The man in purple was waiting for them.

Piper had heard tons of stories about Hercules. She’d seen several cheesy movies and cartoons. Before today, if she had thought about him at all, she’d just roll her eyes and imagine some stupid hairy dude in his thirties with a barrel chest and a gross hippie beard, with a lion skin over his head and a big club, like a caveman. She imagined he would smell bad, belch, and scratch himself a lot, and speak mostly in grunts.

She was not expecting this.

His feet were bare, covered in white sand. His robes made him look like a priest, though Piper couldn’t remember which rank of priest wore purple. Was that cardinals? Bishops? And did the purple color mean he was the Roman version of Hercules rather than the Greek? His beard was fashionably scruffy, like Piper’s dad and his actor friends wore theirs—the sort of  _ I just happened not to shave for two days and I still look awesome _ look. He was well built, but not too stocky. His ebony hair was close-cropped, Roman style. He had startling blue eyes like Jason’s, but his skin was coppery, as if he’d spent his entire life on a tanning bed.

The most surprising thing: he looked about twenty. Definitely no older. He was handsome in a rugged but not-at-all-caveman way.

He did in fact have a club, which lay in the sand next to him, but it was more like an oversized baseball bat—a five-foot-long polished cylinder of mahogany with a leather handgrip studded in bronze. Coach Hedge would have been jealous.

Jason and Piper landed at the edge of the surf. They approached slowly, careful not to make any threatening moves. Hercules watched them with no particular emotion, as if they were some form of seabird he had never noticed before.

“Hello,” Piper said. Always a good start.

“What’s up?” Hercules said. His voice was deep but casual, very modern. He could’ve been greeting them in the high school locker room.

“Uh, not much.” Piper winced. “Well, actually, a lot. I’m Piper. This is Jason. We—”

“Where’s your lion skin?” Jason interrupted.

Piper wanted to elbow him. Annabeth had literally said not to be stupid, but Hercules looked more amused than annoyed.

“It’s ninety degrees out here,” he said. “Why would I wear my lion skin? Do you wear a fur coat to the beach?”

“I guess that makes sense.” Jason sounded disappointed. “It’s just that the pictures always show you with a lion skin.”

Hercules glared at the sky accusingly, like he wanted to have words with his father, Zeus. “Don’t believe everything you hear about me. Being famous isn’t as fun as you might think.”

“Tell me about it,” Piper sighed.

Hercules fixed those brilliant blue eyes on her. “Are you famous?”

“My dad… he’s in the movies.”

Hercules snarled. “Don’t get me started with the movies. Gods of Olympus, they never get anything right. Have you seen one movie about me where I look like me?”

Piper had to admit he had a point. “I’m surprised you’re so young.”

“Ha! Being immortal helps. But, yes, I wasn’t so old when I died. Not by modern standards. I did a lot during my years as a hero… too much, really.” His eyes drifted to Jason. “Son of Zeus, eh?”

“Jupiter,” Jason said.

“Not much difference,” Hercules grumbled. “Dad’s annoying in either form. Me? I was called Heracles. Then the Romans came along and named me Hercules. I didn’t really change that much, though lately just thinking about it gives me splitting headaches…”

The left side of his face twitched. His robes shimmered, momentarily turning white, then back to purple.

“At any rate,” Hercules said, “if you’re Jupiter’s son, you might understand. It’s a lot of pressure. Enough is never enough. Eventually it can make a guy snap.”

He turned to Piper. She felt like a thousand ants were crawling up her back. There was a mixture of sadness and darkness in his eyes that seemed not quite sane, and definitely not safe.

“As for you, my dear,” Hercules said, “be careful. Sons of Zeus can be… well, never mind.”

Piper wasn’t sure what that meant. Suddenly she wanted to get as far from this god as possible, but she tried to maintain a calm, polite expression.

“So, Lord Hercules,” she said, “we’re on a quest. We’d like permission to pass into the Mediterranean.”

Hercules shrugged. “That’s why I’m here. After I died, Dad made me the doorkeeper of Olympus. I said,  _ Great! Palace duty! Party all the time! _ What he didn’t mention is that I’d be guarding the doors to the ancient lands, stuck on this island for the rest of eternity. Lots of fun.” He pointed at the pillars rising from the surf. “Stupid columns. Some people claim I created the whole Strait of Gibraltar by shoving mountains apart. Some people say the mountains are the pillars. What a bunch of Augean manure. The pillars are pillars.”

“Right,” Piper said. “Naturally. So… can we pass?”

The god scratched his fashionable beard. “Well, I have to give you the standard warning about how dangerous the ancient lands are. Not just any demigod can survive the Mare Nostrum. Because of that, I have to give you a quest to complete. Prove your worth, blah, blah, blah. Honestly, I don’t make a big deal of it. Usually I give demigods something simple like a shopping trip, singing a funny song, that sort of thing. After all those labors I had to complete for my evil cousin Eurystheus, well… I don’t want to be that guy, you know?”

“Appreciate it,” Jason said.

“Hey, no problem.” Hercules sounded relaxed and easygoing, but he still made Piper nervous. That dark glint in his eyes reminded her of charcoal soaked in kerosene, ready to go up at a moment’s notice.

“So anyway,” Hercules said, “what’s your quest?”

“Giants,” Jason said. “We’re off to Greece to stop them from awakening Gaea.”

“Giants,” Hercules muttered. “I hate those guys. Back when I was a demigod hero… ah, but never mind. So which god put you up to this—Dad? Athena? Maybe Aphrodite?” He raised an eyebrow at Piper. “As pretty as you are, I’m guessing that’s your mom.”

Piper should’ve been thinking faster, but Hercules had unsettled her. Too late, she realized the conversation had become a minefield.

“Hera sent us,” Jason said. “She brought us together to—”

“Hera.” Suddenly Hercules’s expression was like the cliffs of Gibraltar—a solid, unforgiving sheet of stone.

“We hate her too,” Piper said quickly. Gods, why hadn’t it occurred to her? Hera had been Hercules’s mortal enemy. “We didn’t want to help her. She didn’t give us much choice, but—”

“But here you are,” Hercules said, all friendliness gone. “Sorry, you two. I don’t care how worthy your quest is. I don’t do anything that Hera wants. Ever.”

Jason looked mystified. “But I thought you made up with her when you became a god.”

“Like I said,” Hercules grumbled, “don’t believe everything you hear. If you want to pass into the Mediterranean, I’m afraid I’ve got to give you an extra-hard quest.”

“But we’re like brothers,” Jason protested. “Hera’s messed with my life, too. I understand—”

“You understand nothing,” Hercules said coldly. “My first family: dead. My life wasted on ridiculous quests. My second wife dead, after being tricked into poisoning me and leaving me to a painful demise. And my compensation? I got to become a minor god. Immortal, so I can never forget my pain. Stuck here as a gatekeeper, a doorman, a… a butler for the Olympians. No, you don’t understand. The only god who understands me even a little bit is Dionysus. And at least he invented something useful. I have nothing to show except bad film adaptations of my life.”

Piper turned on the charmspeak. “That’s horribly sad, Lord Hercules. But please go easy on us. We’re not bad people.”

She thought she’d succeeded. Hercules hesitated. Then his jaw tightened, and he shook his head.

“On the opposite side of this island, over those hills, you’ll find a river. In the middle of that river lives the old god Achelous.” Hercules waited, as if this information should send them running in terror.

“And…?” Jason asked.

“And,” Hercules said, “I want you to break off his other horn and bring it to me.”

“He has horns,” Jason said. “Wait… his other horn? What—?”

“Figure it out,” the god snapped. “Here, this should help.” He said the word help like it meant hurt. From under his robes, Hercules took a small book and tossed it to Piper. She barely caught it.

The book’s glossy cover showed a photographic montage of Greek temples and smiling monsters. The Minotaur was giving the thumbs-up. The title read:  _ The Hercules Guide to the Mare Nostrum. _

“Bring me that horn by sundown,” Hercules said. “Just the two of you. No contacting your friends. Your ship will remain where it is. If you succeed, you may pass into the Mediterranean.”

“And if we don’t?” Piper asked, pretty sure she didn’t want the answer.

“Well, Achelous will kill you, obviously,” Hercules said. “And I will break your ship in half with my bare hands and send your friends to an early grave.”

Jason shifted his feet. “Couldn’t we just sing a funny song?”

“I’d get going,” Hercules said coldly. “Sundown. Or your friends are dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm willing to admit that Rick probably forgot about such a small part of the third mythology book he wrote years before the Mark of Athena was written. I forgot about it myself when I read the book for the first time. But now I do remember, so while canon Percy is content to forget about Zoe and Hercules... I am not. So my Percy will remember that.
> 
> Also, "why didn't Annabeth tell them not to mention Hera? why did she only tell them not to make him mad?" Well, as far as I can tell, Jason and Piper never actually say WHY Hercules is mad at them, just that he is. So Annabeth doesn't know about not mentioning Hera.


	28. Jason Channels His Inner Annabeth (Piper XXVIII)

THE HERCULES GUIDE TO THE MARE NOSTRUM didn’t help much with snakes and mosquitoes.

“If this is a magic island,” Piper grumbled, “why couldn’t it be a nice magic island?”

They tromped up a hill and down into a heavily wooded valley, careful to avoid the black-and-red-striped snakes sunning themselves on the rocks. Mosquitoes swarmed over stagnant ponds in the lowest areas. The trees were mostly stunted olives, cypress, and pines. The chirring of the cicadas and the oppressive heat reminded Piper of the rez in Oklahoma during the summer.

So far they hadn’t found any river.

“We could fly,” Jason suggested again.

“We might miss something,” Piper said. “Besides, I’m not sure I want to drop in on an unfriendly god. What was his name? Etch-a-Sketch?”

“Achelous.” Jason was trying to read the guidebook while they walked, so he kept running into trees and stumbling over rocks. “Says here he’s a potamus.”

“He’s a hippopotamus?”

“No. Potamus. A river god. According to this, he’s the spirit of some river in Greece.”

“Since we’re not in Greece, let’s assume he’s moved,” Piper said. “Doesn’t bode well for how useful that book is going to be. Anything else?”

“Says Hercules fought him one time,” Jason offered.

“Hercules fought ninety-nine percent of everything in Ancient Greece.”

“Yeah. Let’s see. Pillars of Hercules…” Jason flipped a page. “Says here this island has no hotels, no restaurants, no transportation. Attractions: Hercules and two pillars. Huh, this is interesting. Supposedly the dollar sign—you know, the S with the two lines through it?—that came from the Spanish coat of arms, which showed the Pillars of Hercules with a banner curling between them.”

_ Great, _ Piper thought.  _ Jason’s finally turning into another Annabeth. _

“Anything helpful?” she asked.

“Wait. Here’s a tiny reference to Achelous: This river god fought Hercules for the hand of the beautiful Deianira. During the struggle, Hercules broke off one of the river god’s horns, which became the first cornucopia.”

“Corn of what?”

“It’s that Thanksgiving decoration,” Jason said. “The horn with all the goodies spilling out? We have some in the mess hall at Camp Jupiter. I didn’t know the original one was actually some guy’s horn.”

“And we’re supposed to take his other one,” Piper said. “I’m guessing that won’t be so easy. Who was Deianira?”

“Hercules married her,” Jason said. “I think… doesn’t say here. But I think something bad happened to her.”

Piper remembered what Hercules had told them: his first family dead, his second wife dead after being tricked into poisoning him. Not to mention everything Percy said about what happened with Zoë Nightshade. She was liking this challenge less and less.

They trudged across a ridge between two hills, trying to stay in the shade; but Piper was already soaked with perspiration. The mosquitoes left welts on her ankles, arms, and neck, so she probably looked like a smallpox victim.

She was irritated with Jason for having mentioned Hera, but a small part of her knew that had either of them bothered to actually think about Hercules’s story and listened to Annabeth’s warning, this probably wouldn’t have happened.

She wondered what Hercules had wanted to tell her about the sons of Zeus. They couldn’t be trusted? They were under too much pressure? Piper tried to imagine Jason becoming a god when he died, standing on some beach guarding the gates to an ocean long after Piper and everyone else he knew in his mortal life were dead.

She wondered if Hercules had ever been as positive as Jason—more upbeat, confident, quick to comfort. It was hard to picture.

As they hiked down into the next valley, Piper wondered what was happening back on the  _ Argo II. _ She was tempted to send an Iris-message, but Hercules had warned them not to contact their friends. She hoped Annabeth could guess what was going on and didn’t try to send another party ashore. Piper wasn’t sure what Hercules would do if he were bothered further. She imagined Coach Hedge getting impatient and aiming a ballista at the man in purple, or eidolons possessing the crew and forcing them to commit suicide-by-Hercules.

Piper shuddered. She didn’t know what time it was, but the sun was already starting to sink. How had the day passed so quickly? She would have welcomed sundown for the cooler temperatures, except it was also their deadline. A cool night breeze wouldn’t mean much if they were dead. Besides, tomorrow was July 1, the Kalends of July. If their information was correct, it would be Nico di Angelo’s last day of life, and the day Rome was destroyed.

“Stop,” Jason said.

Piper wasn’t sure what was wrong. Then she realized she could hear running water up ahead. They crept through the trees and found themselves on the bank of a river. It was maybe forty feet wide but only a few inches deep, a silver sheet of water racing over a smooth bed of stones. A few yards downstream, the rapids plunged into a dark blue swimming hole.

Something about the river bothered her. The cicadas in the trees had gone quiet. No birds were chirping. It was as if the water was giving a lecture and would only allow its own voice.

But the more Piper listened, the more inviting the river seemed. She wanted to take a drink. Maybe she should take off her shoes. Her feet could really use a soak. And that swimming hole… it would be so nice to jump in with Jason and relax in the shade of the trees, floating in the nice cool water.

Piper shook herself. These thoughts weren’t hers. Something was wrong. It almost felt like the river was charmspeaking.

Jason sat on a rock and started taking off his shoes. He grinned at the swimming hole like he couldn’t wait to get in.

“Cut it out!” Piper yelled at the river.

Jason looked startled. “Cut what out?”

“Not you,” Piper said. “Him.”

She felt silly pointing at the water, but she was certain it was working some sort of magic, swaying their feelings.

Just when she thought she had lost it and Jason would tell her so, the river spoke:  _ Forgive me. Singing is one of the few pleasures I have left. _

A figure emerged from the swimming hole as if rising on an elevator.

Piper’s shoulders tensed. It was the creature she’d seen in her knife blade, the bull with the human face. His skin was as blue as the water. His hooves levitated on the river’s surface. At the top of his bovine neck was the head of a man with short curly black hair, a beard done in ringlets Ancient Greek style, deep, mournful eyes behind bifocal glasses, and a mouth that seemed set in a permanent pout. Sprouting from the left side of his head was a single bull’s horn—a curved black-and-white one like warriors might turn into drinking cups. The imbalance made his head tilt to the left, so that he looked like he was trying to get water out of his ear.

“Hello,” he said sadly. “Come to kill me, I suppose.”

Jason put his shoes back on and stood slowly. “Um, well—”

“No!” Piper intervened. “I’m sorry. This is embarrassing. We didn’t want to bother you, but Hercules sent us.”

“Hercules!” The bull-man sighed. His hooves pawed the water as if ready to charge. “To me, he’ll always be Heracles. That’s his Greek name, you know: the glory of Hera.”

“Funny name,” Jason said. “Since he hates her.”

“Indeed,” the bull-man said. “Perhaps that’s why he didn’t protest when the Romans renamed him Hercules. Of course, that’s the name most people know him by… his brand, if you will. Hercules is nothing if not image-conscious.” The bull-man spoke with bitterness but familiarity, as if Hercules was an old friend who had lost his way.

“You’re Achelous?” Piper asked.

The bull-man bent his front legs and lowered his head in a bow, which Piper found both sweet and a little sad. “At your service. River god extraordinaire. Once the spirit of the mightiest river in Greece. Now sentenced to dwell here, on the opposite side of the island from my old enemy. Oh, the gods are cruel! But whether they put us so close together to punish me or Hercules, I have never been sure.”

Piper wasn’t sure what he meant, but the background noise of the river was invading her mind again—reminding her how hot and thirsty she felt, how pleasant a nice swim would be. She tried to focus.

“I’m Piper,” she said. “This is Jason. We don’t want to fight. It’s just that Heracles—Hercules—whoever he is, got mad at us and sent us here.”

She explained about their quest to the ancient lands to stop the giants from waking Gaea. She described how their team of Greeks and Romans had come together, and how Hercules had thrown a temper tantrum when he found out Hera was behind it.

Achelous kept tipping his head to the left, so Piper wasn’t sure if he was dozing off or dealing with one-horn fatigue.

When she was done, Achelous regarded her as if she were developing a regrettable skin rash. “Ah, my dear… the legends are true, you know. The spirits, the water cannibals.”

Piper had to fight back a whimper. She hadn’t told Achelous anything about that. “H-how—?”

“River gods know many things,” he said. “Alas, you are focusing on the wrong story. If you had made it to Rome, the story of the flood would have served you better.”

“Piper?” Jason asked. “What’s he talking about?”

Her thoughts were suddenly as jumbled as kaleidoscope glass.  _ The story of the flood… If you had made it to Rome. _

“I—I’m not sure,” she said, though the mention of a flood story rang a distant bell. “Achelous, I don’t understand—”

“No, you don’t,” the river god sympathized. “Poor thing. Another girl stuck with a son of Zeus.”

“Wait a minute,” Jason said. “It’s Jupiter, actually. And how does that make her a poor thing?”

Achelous ignored him. “My girl, do you know the cause of my fight with Hercules?”

“It was over a woman,” Piper recalled. “Deianira?”

“Yes.” Achelous heaved a sigh. “And do you know what happened to her?”

“Uh…” Piper glanced at Jason.

He took out his guidebook and began flipping through pages. “It doesn’t really—”

Achelous snorted indignantly. “What is that?”

Jason blinked. “Just… The Hercules Guide to Mare Nostrum. He gave us the guidebook so—”

“That is not a book,” Achelous insisted. “He gave you that just to get under my skin, didn’t he? He knows I hate those things.”

“You hate… books?” Piper asked.

“Bah!” Achelous’s face flushed, turning his blue skin eggplant purple. “That’s not a book.”

He pawed the water. A scroll shot from the river like a miniature rocket and landed in front of him. He nudged it open with his hooves. The weathered yellow parchment unfurled, covered with faded Latin script and elaborate hand-drawn pictures.

“This is a book!” Achelous said. “Oh, the smell of sheepskin! The elegant feel of the scroll unrolling beneath my hooves. You simply can’t duplicate it in something like that.”

He nodded indignantly at the guidebook in Jason’s hand. “You young folks today and your newfangled gadgets. Bound pages. Little compact squares of text that are not hoof-friendly. That’s a bound book, a b-book, if you must. But it’s not a traditional book. It’ll never replace the good old-fashioned scroll!”

“Um, I’ll just put this away now.” Jason slipped the guidebook in his back pocket the way he might holster a dangerous weapon.

Achelous seemed to calm down a little, which was a relief to Piper. She didn’t need to get run over by a one-horned bull with a scroll obsession.

“Now,” Achelous said, tapping a picture on his scroll. “This is Deianira.”

Piper knelt down to look. The hand-painted portrait was small, but she could tell the woman had been very beautiful, with long dark hair, dark eyes, and a playful smile that probably drove guys crazy.

“Princess of Calydon,” the river god said mournfully. “She was promised to me, until Hercules butted in. He insisted on combat.”

“And he broke off your horn?” Jason guessed.

“Yes,” Achelous said. “I could never forgive him for that. Horribly uncomfortable, having only one horn. But the situation was worse for poor Deianira. She could have had a long, happy life married to me.”

“A man-headed bull,” Piper said, “who lives in a river.”

“Exactly,” Achelous agreed. “It seems impossible she would refuse, eh? Instead, she went off with Hercules. She picked the handsome, flashy hero over the good, faithful husband who would have treated her well. What happened next? Well, she should have known. Hercules was much too wrapped up in his own problems to be a good husband. He had already murdered one wife, you know. Hera cursed him, so he flew into a rage and killed his entire family. Horrible business. That’s why he had to do those twelve labors as penance.”

Piper felt appalled. “Wait… Hera made him crazy, and Hercules had to do the penance?”

Achelous shrugged. “The Olympians never seem to pay for their crimes. And Hera has always hated the sons of Zeus… or Jupiter.” He glanced distrustfully at Jason. “At any rate, my poor Deianira had a tragic end. She became jealous of Hercules’s many affairs. He gallivanted all over the world, you see, just like his father Zeus, flirting with every woman he met. Finally Deianira got so desperate she listened to bad advice. A crafty centaur named Nessus told her that if she wanted Hercules to be faithful forever, she should spread some centaur blood on the inside of Hercules’s favorite shirt. Unfortunately Nessus was lying because he wanted revenge on Hercules. Deianira followed his instructions, but instead of making Hercules a faithful husband—”

“Centaur blood is like acid,” Jason said.

“Yes,” Achelous said. “Hercules died a painful death. When Deianira realized what she’d done, she…” The river god drew a line across his neck.

“That’s awful,” Piper said.

“And the moral, my dear?” Achelous said. “Beware the sons of Zeus.”

Piper’s eyes widened. “Oh, wait. No. You, you’ve got this wrong. Jason and I aren’t… we’re not…”

“Well, don’t waste your time with him,” Achelous snorted. “Hercules is a god now,” he said. “He married Hebe, the youth goddess, but still he is rarely at home. He dwells here on this island, guarding those silly pillars. He says Zeus makes him do this, but I think he prefers being here to Mount Olympus, nursing his bitterness and mourning his mortal life. My presence reminds him of his failures—especially the woman who finally killed him. And his presence reminds me of poor Deianira, who could have been my wife.”

The bull-man tapped the scroll, which rolled itself up and sank into the water.

“Hercules wants my other horn in order to humiliate me,” Achelous said. “Perhaps it would make him feel better about himself, knowing that I’m miserable too. Besides, the horn would become a cornucopia. Good food and drink would flow from it, just as my power causes the river to flow. No doubt Hercules would keep the cornucopia for himself. It would be a tragedy and a waste.”

Piper suspected the noise of the river and the drowsy sound of Achelous’s voice were still affecting her thoughts, but she couldn’t help agreeing with the river god. She didn’t really like Hercules to begin with. This poor bull-man seemed so sad and lonely.

Jason stirred. “I’m sorry, Achelous. Honestly, you’ve gotten a bum deal. But maybe… well, without the other horn, you might not be so lopsided. It might feel better.”

“Jason!” Piper protested.

Jason held up his hands. “Just a thought. Besides, I don’t see that we have many choices. If Hercules doesn’t get that horn, he’ll kill us and our friends.”

“He’s right,” Achelous said. “You have no choice. Which is why I hope you’ll forgive me.”

Piper frowned. The river god sounded so heartbroken, she wanted to pat his head. “Forgive you for what?”

“I have no choice either,” Achelous said. “I have to stop you.”

The river exploded, and a wall of water crashed over Piper.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gotta agree with Achelous. Nothing like a real book with actual pages you can turn.
> 
> Also, can we appreciate the fact that Rick totally exposed Zeus. "...just like his father Zeus, flirting with every woman he met." Like, I know we all know Zeus can't keep it in his pants, but I've NEVER seen it spelled out in Greek mythology books like that.


	29. I Teach Myself Bullfighting (Piper XXIX)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is a reference to My Mother Teaches Me Bullfighting.

THE CURRENT GRABBED HER LIKE A FIST and pulled her into the deep. Struggling was useless. She clamped her mouth shut, forcing herself not to inhale, but she could barely keep from panicking. She couldn’t see anything but a torrent of bubbles. She could only hear her own thrashing and the dull roar of the rapids.

She’d just about decided this was how she would die: drowning in a swimming hole on an island that didn’t exist. Then, as suddenly as she’d been pulled under, she was thrust to the surface. She found herself at the center of a whirlpool, able to breathe but unable to break free.

A few yards away, Jason broke the surface and gasped, his sword in one hand. He swung wildly, but there was nothing to attack.

Twenty feet to Piper’s right, Achelous rose from the water. “I’m really sorry about this,” he said.

Jason lunged toward him, summoning the winds to lift him out of the river, but Achelous was quicker and more powerful. A curl of water slammed into Jason and sent him under once more.

“Stop it!” Piper screamed.

Using charmspeak wasn’t easy when she was floundering in a whirlpool, but she got Achelous’s attention.

“I’m afraid I can’t stop,” said the river god. “I can’t let Hercules have my other horn. It would be mortifying.”

“There’s another way!” Piper said. “You don’t have to kill us!”

Jason clawed his way to the surface again. A miniature storm cloud formed over his head. Thunder boomed.

“None of that, son of Jupiter,” Achelous chided. “If you call lightning, you’ll just electrocute your friend.”

The water pulled Jason under again.

“Let him go!” Piper charged her voice with all the persuasiveness she could muster. “I promise I won’t let Hercules get the horn!”

Achelous hesitated. He cantered over to her, his head tilting to the left. “I believe you mean that.”

“I do!” Piper promised. “Hercules is despicable. But, please, first let my friend go.”

The water churned where Jason had gone under. Piper wanted to scream. How much longer could he hold his breath?

Achelous looked down at her through his bifocals. His expression softened. “I see. You would be my Deianira. You would be my bride to compensate for my loss.”

“What?” Piper wasn’t sure if she’d heard him right. The whirlpool was literally making her head spin. “Uh, actually I was thinking—”

“I would treat you much better than a son of Zeus would,” Achelous said. “I could make things right after all these centuries. I could not save Deianira, but I could save you.”

Had it been thirty seconds now? A minute? Jason couldn’t hold out much longer.

“You would have to let your friends die,” Achelous continued. “Hercules would be angry, but I can protect you from him. We could be quite happy together. Let’s start by letting that Jason fellow drown, eh?”

Piper could barely hold it together, but she had to concentrate. She masked her fear and her anger. She was a child of Aphrodite. She had to use the tools she was given.

She smiled as sweetly as she could and raised her arms. “Lift me up, please.”

Achelous’s face brightened. He grabbed Piper’s hands and pulled her out of the whirlpool. She’d never ridden a bull before, but she’d practiced bareback pegasus riding at Camp Half-Blood, and she remembered what to do. She used her momentum, swinging one leg over Achelous’s back. Then she locked her ankles around his neck, wrapped one arm around his throat, and drew her knife with the other. She pressed the blade under the river god’s chin.

“Let—Jason—go.” She put all her force into the command. “Now!”

Piper realized there were many flaws in her plan. The river god might simply dissolve into water. Or he could pull her under and wait for her to drown. But apparently her charmspeak worked. Or maybe Achelous was just too surprised to think straight. He probably wasn’t used to pretty girls threatening to cut his throat.

Jason shot out of the water like a human cannonball. He broke through the branches of an olive tree and tumbled onto the grass. That couldn’t have felt good, but he struggled to his feet, gasping and coughing. He raised his sword, and the dark clouds thickened over the river.

Piper shot him a warning look: Not yet. She still had to get out of this river without drowning or getting electrocuted.

Achelous arched his back as if contemplating a trick. Piper pressed the knife harder against his throat.

“Be a good bull,” she warned.

“You promised,” Achelous said through gritted teeth. “You promised Hercules wouldn’t get my horn.”

“And he won’t,” Piper said. “But I will.”

She raised her knife and slashed off the god’s horn. The Celestial bronze cut through the base like it was wet clay. Achelous bellowed in rage. Before he could recover, Piper stood up on his back. With the horn in one hand and her dagger in the other, she leaped for the shore.

“Jason!” she yelled.

Thank the gods, he understood. A gust of wind caught her and carried her safely over the bank. Piper hit the ground rolling as the hairs on her neck stood up. A metallic smell filled the air. She turned toward the river in time to be blinded.

_ BOOM! _

Lightning stirred the water into a boiling cauldron, steaming and hissing with electricity.

Piper blinked the yellow spots out of her eyes as the god Achelous wailed and dissolved beneath the surface. His horrified expression seemed to be asking: How could you?

“Jason, run!” She was still dizzy and sick with fear, but she and Jason crashed through the woods.

As she climbed the hill, clasping the bull’s horn to her chest, Piper realized she was sobbing—though she wasn’t sure if it was from fear, or relief, or shame for what she’d done to the old river god.

* * *

They didn’t slow down until they reached the crest of the hill.

Piper felt silly, but she kept breaking down and crying as she told Jason what had happened while he was struggling underwater.

“Piper, you had no choice.” He put his hand on her shoulder. “You saved my life.”

She wiped her eyes and tried to control herself. The sun was nearing the horizon. They had to get back to Hercules quickly, or their friends would die.

“Achelous forced your hand,” Jason continued. “Besides, I doubt that lightning bolt killed him. He’s an ancient god. You’d have to destroy his river to destroy him. And he can live without a horn. If you had to lie about not giving it to Hercules, well—”

“I wasn’t lying.”

Jason stared at her. “Pipes… we don’t have a choice. Hercules will kill—”

“Hercules doesn’t deserve this. Not after what we’ve heard about him.” Piper had never felt more certain of anything in her life.

Hercules was a bitter, selfish jerk. He’d hurt too many people, and he wanted to keep on hurting them. Maybe he’d had some bad breaks. Maybe the gods had kicked him around. But that didn’t excuse it. A hero couldn’t control the gods, but he should be able to control himself. Jason would never be like that. He would never blame others for his problems or make a grudge more important than doing the right thing.

Piper was not going to repeat Deianira’s story. She wasn’t going to go along with what Hercules wanted just because he was handsome and strong and scary. He couldn’t get his way this time—not after threatening their lives and sending them to make Achelous miserable for the sake of spiting Hera. Not after Zoë Nightshade. Hercules didn’t deserve a horn of plenty. Piper was going to put him in his place.

“I have a plan,” she said.

She told Jason what to do. She didn’t even realize she was using charmspeak until his eyes glazed over.

“Whatever you say,” he promised. Then he blinked a few times. “We’re going to die, but I’m in.”

* * *

Hercules was waiting right where they’d left him. He was staring at the  _ Argo II, _ docked between the pillars as the sun set behind it. The ship looked okay, but Piper’s plan had started to feel insane to her. Too late to reconsider. She’d already sent an Iris-message to Leo. Jason was prepared. And, seeing Hercules again, she felt more certain than ever she couldn’t give him what he wanted.

Hercules didn’t exactly brighten when he saw Piper carrying the bull’s horn, but his scowl lines lessened.

“Good,” he said. “You got it. In that case, you are free to go.”

Piper glanced at Jason. “You heard him. He gave us permission.” She turned back to the god. “That means our ship will be able to pass into the Mediterranean?”

“Yes, yes.” Hercules snapped his fingers. “Now, the horn.”

“No,” Piper said.

The god frowned. “Excuse me?”

She raised the cornucopia. Since she’d cut it from Achelous’s head, the horn had hollowed out, becoming smooth and dark on the inside. It didn’t appear magical, but Piper was counting on its power.

“Achelous was right,” she said. “You’re his curse as much as he is yours. You’re a sorry excuse for a hero.”

Hercules stared at her as if she were speaking in Japanese. “You realize I could kill you with a flick of my finger,” he said. “I could throw my club at your ship and cut straight through its hull. I could—”

“You could shut up,” Jason said. He drew his sword. “Maybe Zeus is different from Jupiter. Because I wouldn’t put up with any brother who acts like you.”

The veins on Hercules’s neck turned as purple as his robes. “You would not be the first demigod I’ve killed.”

“Jason is better than you,” Piper said. “But don’t worry. We’re not going to fight you. We’re going to leave this island with the horn. You don’t deserve it as a prize. I’m going to keep it, to remind me of what not to be like as a demigod, and to remind me of poor Achelous and Deianira.”

The god’s nostrils flared. “Do not mention that name! You can’t seriously think I’m worried about your puny boyfriend. No one is stronger than me.”

“Why does everyone think we’re dating?” Piper scowled. “And who said anything about stronger? I said he’s  _ better _ than you.”

Piper pointed the mouth of the horn at Hercules. She let go of the resentment and doubt and anger she’d been harboring since Camp Jupiter. She concentrated on all the good things she’d shared with her friends: soaring upward in the Grand Canyon with Jason, singing along at campfire with Silena and the rest of her siblings, working on the  _ Argo II _ with Leo.

She thought about a future when the giants had been defeated, Gaea was asleep, and they would live happily together—no jealousy, no monsters left to battle. She filled her heart with those thoughts, and she felt the cornucopia grow warm.

The horn blasted forth a flood of food as powerful as Achelous’s river. A torrent of fresh fruit, baked goods, and smoked hams completely buried Hercules. Piper didn’t understand how all that stuff could fit through the entrance of the horn, but she thought the hams were especially appropriate.

When it had spewed out enough goodies to fill a house, the horn shut itself off. Piper heard Hercules shrieking and struggling somewhere underneath. Apparently even the strongest god in the world could be caught off guard when buried under fresh produce.

“Go!” she told Jason, who’d forgotten his part of the plan and was staring in amazement at the fruit pile. “Go!”

He grabbed Piper’s waist and summoned the wind. They shot away from the island so quickly, Piper almost got whiplash; but it wasn’t a second too soon.

As the island retreated from view, Hercules’s head broke above the mound of goodies. Half a coconut was stuck on his noggin like a war helmet. “Kill!” he bellowed, like he’d had a lot of practice saying it.

Jason touched down on the deck of the  _ Argo II. _ Thankfully, Leo had done his part. The ship’s oars were already in aerial mode. The anchor was up. Jason summoned a gale so strong, it pushed them into the sky, while Percy sent a ten-foot-tall wave against the shore, knocking Hercules down a second time, in a cascade of seawater and pineapples.

“That’s from Zoë Nightshade!” Percy yelled.

By the time the god regained his feet and started lobbing coconuts at them from far below, the  _ Argo II _ was already sailing through the clouds above the Mediterranean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I reread Blood of Olympus. And let me just say. I did not appreciate what happened. In chapter three or four, I can't remember which one, Jason was, in fact, impaled through the back. Michael Varus said, "Born a Roman. Die a Roman." Coincidentally, in the Burning Maze, Jason was ALSO impaled through the back. This then proceeded to have the audacity to be Jason's death. So. I'm not sure if this was intentional. But I was not appreciative of what happened.


	30. But It's so Hard Loving You (Will XXX)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: If you haven't read Tower of Nero, there are brief mentions of certain creatures, characters, moments, etc. from that book. Nothing to give away the plot of the book, but as you know, Will and Nico play a part in the book and Will is recalling some of those moments.

WILL WAS BEYOND ANGRY.

Nico had  _ lied _ to him about what he was doing. He hadn’t even told  _ Bianca _ who was his  _ sister _ that he was leaving. Then, Nico proceeded to head straight into Tartarus.

The thing was, if Will was being honest, he already knew that Nico was going to do that. Didn’t he have to leave so he could tell the Seven where the Doors of Death were? It would have been too suspicious if Percy or Annabeth were able to bring up the correct answer without any investigation.

But hearing it confirmed was another thing.

“Nico went looking for the Doors,” Percy said, “but he got captured. That’s where we’re heading now.”

“Why the Hades did he do that?” Will shouted. “He went to—” he cut himself off. “Why would he do this?”

“We don’t know,” Piper spoke up. “We think he found them though.”

“Of course he found them,” Will scowled. “I—” he shook his head. “Sorry, Bianca, I have to go.” He stormed out of the Hades cabin and made for his own cabin.

When he slammed the door open, Kayla jumped up. She gave Will a glare.

“What crawled up your—”

“Sorry,” Will said, not really putting any meaning into it. He flopped down onto his bed and stared up at the bunk above him.

He thought that Nico would have avoided Tartarus like the plague—rightfully so. There were no good memories Nico associated with the literal monster hell hole. In fact, it was pretty much the epitome of all of Nico’s mental health problems that had gotten them into this situation in the first place.

The troglodytes Will could deal with. He didn’t like Nico talking to them, but the cavern runners had really pulled through when they needed them. Will could appreciate that.

Tartarus? Well, Will didn’t really want Nico to ever go back there. And if he did have to go back, then it was supposed to be a quest that the two of them took up  _ together. _ The fact that Nico didn’t tell Will where he was going kind of hurt.

“Brooding face,” Kayla said. “I usually only see that on Nico. Spill.”

“Nico’s in trouble,” Will said, sitting up. “He went looking for the Doors of Death. He was captured by giants.”

Kayla looked surprised. “What?”

“He went searching for the Doors of Death.” Will jumped up and started going through his small amount of possessions. “Come on, where is it?”

“What are you looking for?”

“A bag,” Will said absently. “Hah!” He pulled a drawstring out from under his bed and started shoving things into it.

“Please do not tell me you’re planning on—”

“Will!” Bianca burst into the Apollo cabin. She barely looked at Kayla. “Will, are you—” she froze. “What in my father’s name are you doing?”

“Leaving,” Will said flatly. “If Nico thinks he can just go off and do  _ exactly what he promised not to do _ without me, then he has another thing coming.”

“Kayla, do you mind if I have a chat with Will?” Bianca asked.

Kayla looked between them. “It’s against the rules to have two non-sibling campers alone in a cabin.”

“Please,” Bianca said.

“Okay,” Kayla sighed. “Try not to kill him too badly.” She left the cabin.

Bianca placed a hand on Will’s bag. “I’m going to take this, and you’re going to tell me what you’re thinking.”

Will let her take the bag. He sat back down on his bunk.

“What’s up?”

“I know Nico told you some stuff about…” he trailed off.

“The future,” Bianca prompted. “Yeah. Not a lot. He told me about what happened after I… died. And that he went searching for the Doors. And that there was a war with Gaea. And that you and he were together.”

“We were,” Will nodded. “Um, but like right before we ended up back here, there was something that we hadn’t really worked through. It had to do with… with Tartarus. Kind of.”

“What do you mean?” Bianca asked.

Will shook his head. “I really shouldn’t be the one to tell you. It’s not mine to tell.”

“But—”

“Look, all you need to know is something happened and before we could figure it out, we were back here and it was no longer an issue. But apparently now it is.” He held out his hand for his bag back. “Now, can I finish packing?”

“No,” Bianca said with a frown. “What do you plan on doing?”

“Going to Rome to get Nico back,” Will said.

“How?” Bianca challenged. “In case you’ve forgotten, the Romans are on their way here to kill us and you don’t have any money to buy a plane ticket. Nico has two more days, yes? How do you plan to get to Rome in two days?”

“I don’t know, but it’s better than just sitting here doing nothing.”

“Running off half-cocked and getting yourself killed is not better than doing nothing,” Bianca said firmly. “That might tick my brother off. And if Nico’s mad at you,  _ I’m _ mad at you.” She gave Will a hard look. “Got it?”

Will swallowed. Sure, Jason and Percy had made him promise not to hurt Nico in the original timeline, and Annabeth had casually taken up knife throwing practice whenever Will was around for the first few days. But he hadn’t actually had to deal with Nico’s siblings given that Bianca was dead and moved on, and Hazel was completely cut off from them communications-wise.

And he was well aware of Cecil and Lou Ellen’s attempts to harass Nico which the son of Hades informed Will that he found more amusing that they actually tried than scary. Kayla and Austin, Will’s half-siblings, had pretty much given Nico the hurt-our-brother-we’ll-hurt-you talk that Will couldn’t get from Bianca or Hazel.

So this was his first time being on the receiving end of such a talk and Will didn’t really like it. He was certainly happy that Bianca was  _ alive _ to give said talk, just… from a receiving standpoint, it sucked.

“Got it,” Will said.

Bianca looked satisfied with that. She set the bag down on Will’s bed. “Good. Look, maybe Rachel or Chiron can tell us more about what’s going on at the campfire tonight. He should be updating everyone on what’s going on with the Seven’s quest, right? Whatever they told him in the IM earlier anyway.”

“I guess,” Will sighed.

* * *

At the bonfire that night, the mood had returned to the somber mood that had followed the days after Percy Jackson’s disappearance. Which is to say that everyone was kind of glum.

Will sat with Bianca in the Hades section rather than sitting in the Apollo section with his siblings or in the Hecate section with Lou Ellen and Cecil much to the surprise of the Nakamura’s who sometimes sat with Bianca in her section.

“Hey, Will,” Allegra greeted him. “What’s up? Usually you’re only here when Nico’s around.”

Will’s jaw clenched. “Yeah, well, I can sit wherever the Hades I want.”

Ethan looked at Will with his eye. “Maybe you should sit with people you won’t snap at.”

“He’s just tense,” Bianca assured them. “We… we got some, uh, news today from the Seven.”

Allegra looked interested. “Really? What?”

At that moment, Chiron made his way to the front and everyone settled down.

“Today I received word from the Seven,” he announced.

Excited whispers filled the air. The flames grew a few inches higher.

“They are somewhere in the Atlantic ocean,” Chiron continued. “They plan to reach Rome by July 1st.”

Will’s hands tighten into fists.

“Unfortunately, Piper and Annabeth have informed me that the Romans have stopped their pursuit of the  _ Argo II _ and are turning their attention towards Camp Half-Blood.”

Clarisse cracked her knuckles. “Let them. We’ll show those Romans.”

“That’s what Gaea wants,” Ethan protested. “With the Greeks and Romans fighting, the gods have been reduced to, well, it’s not good. Haven’t you been wondering  _ why _ your parents aren’t answering any prayers the past few days?”

“What do you mean?” Katie Gardner asked.

Ethan hesitated. “My mother visited me in a dream. She’s not affected by the schism, revenge is universal, but the other gods are. The Greek part of them is fighting with the Roman part. They’ve gone, well…”

“Mad,” Castor supplied. “Insane.”

“Schizophrenic,” Ethan corrected. “And that’s a kinder way of putting it.”

“But we can’t let the Romans attack us,” Bianca said.

Ethan looked grim. “I know. We have to fight when they attack, but based on what my mother said… I think the Seven are looking for something that could put an end to this. She said there’s something in Rome that could balance the scales.”

“The giants’ bane,” Rachel murmured. She stood up. “Ella’s been saying a lot of things that sound like prophecies. She’s said a few from the last Great Prophecy and recently she recited something I’ve never heard before.” She took a deep breath:

_ “Wisdom’s daughter walks alone, _

_ The Mark of Athena burns through Rome. _

_ Twins snuff out the angel's breath, _

_ Who holds the key to endless death. _

_ Giants' bane stands gold and pale, _

_ Won through pain from a woven jail.” _

Rachel looked at them. “This item that Nemesis told Ethan about must be the giants’ bane. If it can stop the Greeks and Romans from fighting, it could unite us against Gaea and the giants.”

“And that’s great,” Malcolm Pace from Athena said. “Except those first two lines.  _ Wisdom’s daughter? _ That has to be Annabeth. Why is she alone? And what’s the Mark of Athena?”

Chiron looked just as puzzled. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. The prophecy though, it sounds like it is about Annabeth.”

“And Nico,” Will mumbled. He cleared his throat when people turned to him. “And Nico,” he said louder. “Twins…  _ Twins snuff out the angel’s breath _ . Angelo is Italian for angel.”

He felt Bianca stiffen next to him.

“We… we IM’d them,” Will admitted. “Bianca and I. Nico went looking for the Doors of Death and he was captured by the giants. They’re on their way to Rome to save Nico before… If they don’t find him by the end of the day on July 1st, Nico dies.”

There was silence after that. The flames of the campfire had died down to a few measly flickers of light.

“They’ll find him,” Beckendorf said firmly, looking at Bianca. “Percy and Annabeth are there, and they’re Nico’s friends. If anyone can find Nico and save the world, it’s them. Plus, they’ve got Jason, Piper, Leo, and the other two of the Seven. Seven of the most powerful demigods ever to exist. It’s a good team.”

“Nine,” Bianca said.

“Huh?”

“Nine of the most powerful demigods ever to exist,” she said with a faint smile. “They have two extras on board. Magnus Chase and Alex Fierro are with them too.”

Will had registered the Norse demigods’ presence, but it hadn’t fully sunk in that they were there too until Bianca said something.

Silena smiled. “There you go. Nine of the most powerful demigods ever to exist. Once they find Nico, that’s ten of the most powerful demigods. Gaea and the giants are going to be in for a world of pain.”

Will couldn’t agree more. A small unhelpful part of his brain reminded him that Percy and Annabeth would be falling to Tartarus sometime within the next 48-72 hours and that Nico would be weakened by his experience in Tartarus.

He didn’t mention this to Bianca or anyone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Will chapter!
> 
> And here's the next part of the song, haha. "It's Only Love" (When They Came ch 74) "And That is All" (When They Came ch 75) "Why Should I Feel The Way I Do?" (Sum of Our Choices: The Son of Neptune) "But It's so Hard Loving You" (this one). Gah, I like to think I'm so cool like that. Someone stop me.


	31. I Blame My ADHD for Whatever Happens in this Chapter (Percy XXXI)

PERCY SOMEWHAT NAIVELY HOPED THAT maybe there would be less monster attacks this time. Unfortunately, that was not the case.

Several times an hour, something attacked the ship. A flock of flesh-eating Stymphalian birds swooped out of the night sky, and Festus torched them. Storm spirits swirled around the mast, and Jason blasted them with lightning. While Coach Hedge was having dinner on the foredeck, a wild pegasus appeared from nowhere, stampeded over the coach’s enchiladas, and flew off again, leaving cheesy hoof prints all across the deck.

“What was that for?” the coach demanded.

The sight of the pegasus made Percy wish Blackjack were here. He hadn’t seen his friend in days. Tempest and Arion also hadn’t shown themselves. Maybe they didn’t want to venture into the Mediterranean. If so, Percy couldn’t blame them.

Finally around midnight, after the ninth or tenth aerial attack, Jason turned to him. “How about you get some sleep? I’ll keep blasting stuff out of the sky as long as I can. Then we can go by sea for a while, and you can take point.”

Percy wasn’t sure that he’d be able to sleep with the boat rocking through the clouds as it was shaken by angry wind spirits, but Jason’s idea made sense. He went below-decks and crashed on his bunk.

His nightmares, of course, were anything but restful.

He dreamed he was in a dark cavern. He could only see a few feet in front of him, but the space must have been vast. Water dripped from somewhere nearby, and the sound echoed off distant walls. The way the air moved made Percy suspect the cave’s ceiling was far, far above.

He heard heavy footsteps, and the twin giants Ephialtes and Otis shuffled out of the gloom. Percy could distinguish them only by their hair—Ephialtes had the green locks braided with silver and gold coins; Otis had the purple ponytail braided with… were those firecrackers?

Otherwise they were dressed identically, and their outfits definitely belonged in a nightmare. They wore matching white slacks and gold buccaneer shirts with V-necks that showed way too much chest hair. A dozen sheathed daggers lined their rhinestone belts. Their shoes were open-toed sandals, proving that—yes, indeed—they had snakes for feet. The straps wrapped around the serpents’ necks. Their heads curled up where the toes should be. The snakes flicked their tongues excitedly and turned their gold eyes in every direction, like dogs looking out the window of a car. Maybe it had been a long time since they’d had shoes with a view.

The giants stood in front of Percy, but they paid him no attention. Instead, they gazed up into the darkness.

“We’re here,” Ephialtes announced. Despite his booming voice, his words dissipated in the cavern, echoing until they sounded small and insignificant.

Far above, something answered, “Yes. I can see that. Those outfits are hard to miss.”

The voice made Percy’s stomach drop about six inches. Each word was a garbled hiss in multiple tones, as if a swarm of African killer bees had learned to speak English in unison.

_ Arachne. _

The twin giants became nervous. They shifted on their snakes and bobbed their heads respectfully.

“Of course, Your Ladyship,” Ephialtes said. “We bring news of—”

“Why are you dressed like that?” asked Arachne. She didn’t seem to be coming any closer, which was fine with Percy.

Ephialtes shot his brother an irritated look. “My brother was supposed to wear something different. Unfortunately—”

“You said I was the knife thrower today,” Otis protested.

“I said I was the knife thrower! You were supposed to be the magician! Ah, forgive me, Your Ladyship. You don’t want to hear us arguing. We came as you requested, to bring you news. The ship is approaching.”

Her Ladyship made a series of violent hisses like a tire being slashed repeatedly.

With a shudder, Percy realized she was laughing.

“How long?” she asked.

“They should land in Rome shortly after daybreak, I think,” Ephialtes said. “Of course, they’ll have to get past the golden boy.” He sneered, as if the golden boy was not his favorite person.

“I hope they arrive safely,” Her Ladyship said. “It would spoil our fun to have them captured too soon. Are your preparations made?”

“Yes, Your Ladyship.” Otis stepped forward, and the cavern trembled. A crack appeared under Otis’s left snake.

“Careful, you dolt!” Her Ladyship snarled. “Do you want to return to Tartarus the hard way?”

Percy flinched as Otis scrambled back. He figured not much could actually  _ harm _ him in a dream, but still. He remembered the confusion as Annabeth’s feet slipped out from under her and dragged her back towards the edge. He remembered his desperate lunge and his own momentum betraying them by carrying them closer to the edge. He remembered the horrible realization that he could do nothing to stop this because both his hands were occupied and the others were too far away to help. He remembered falling down down down…

Percy shook himself out of the memory.

“There is little left holding this place together,” Her Ladyship cautioned. “Except, of course, my own skill. Centuries of Athena’s rage can only be contained so well, and the great Earth Mother churns below us in her sleep. Between those two forces, well… my nest has quite eroded. We must hope this child of Athena proves to be a worthy victim. She may be my last plaything.”

Ephialtes gulped. He kept his eyes on the crack in the floor. “Soon it will not matter, Your Ladyship. Gaea will rise, and we all will be rewarded. You will no longer have to guard this place, or keep your works hidden.”

“Perhaps,” said the voice in the dark. “But I will miss the sweetness of my revenge. We have worked well together over the centuries, have we not?”

The twins bowed.

“Uh, Your Ladyship,” Ephialtes said nervously. “I would remind you that Gaea wishes the girl to be taken alive. You can torment her. Drive her insane. Whatever you wish, of course. But her blood must be spilt on the ancient stones.”

Her Ladyship hissed. “Others could be used for that purpose.”

“Y-yes,” Ephialtes said. “But this girl is preferred. And the boy—the son of Poseidon. You can see why those two would be most suited for the task.”

Percy never really understood why Gaea was so determined for it to be him and Annabeth to be the ones to bleed and wake her up.

“We will see,” Her Ladyship grumbled. “Leave me now. Tend to your own preparations. You will have your spectacle. And I… I will work in darkness.”

The dream dissolved, and Percy woke with a start.

Jason was knocking at his open doorway.

“We’ve set down in the water,” he said, looking utterly exhausted. “Your turn.”

* * *

Percy woke Annabeth. If they were about to fall to Tartarus in 24 hours, he wanted to spend as much time with his girlfriend in the mortal world as possible. Even if that meant fending off monster attacks together. He was romantic like that.

They stood on deck, alone except for Leo, who was still manning the helm. The guy must have been shattered, but he refused to go to sleep.

“I don’t want any more Shrimpzilla surprises,” he insisted.

They’d all tried to convince Leo that the skolopendra attack hadn’t been entirely his fault—if anything it was Percy and Annabeth’s fault, though in Percy’s defense, he was unconscious until shortly before the attack—but he wouldn’t listen. Percy knew how he felt. Not forgiving himself for mistakes was one of Percy’s biggest talents.

It was about four in the morning. The weather was miserable. The fog was so thick, Percy couldn’t see Festus at the end of the prow, and warm drizzle hung in the air like a bead curtain. As they sailed into twenty-foot swells, the sea heaving underneath them, Percy could hear poor Hazel down in her cabin… also heaving.

Despite all that, Percy was grateful to be back on the water. He preferred it to flying through storm clouds and being attacked by man-eating birds and enchilada-trampling pegasi.

He stood with Annabeth at the forward rail.

“We have a plan, right?”

Annabeth’s face was pale. “Yes. Of course we do.”

“Athena always has a plan,” Percy said with a smile.

Despite herself, Annabeth smiled too. “Don’t forget it.” Her face became serious. “I’m going to leave the pack with all the supplies in your room. Make sure you’re wearing it when you come get me. It has the tracker to find where Nico dropped the signals and the portable Labyrinth map. Plus some ambrosia and nectar just in case.”

Percy took her hand. “We’re going to be okay. We just have to do exactly what we did last time and everything will be fine.”

“Not everything we did last time.”

“No,” Percy agreed. “Not everything the same.” He hesitated. “I had a dream. About Otis, Ephialtes, and, you know,  _ her. _ ”

Annabeth stared out over the water. “Her. I’m worried. What if you don’t get there soon enough? Or what if you get there too early? What if it isn’t even us who fall? Bad things happen when you try to cheat fate, Percy, and we’ve been cheating fate for years now.”

“We haven’t been cheating fate,” Percy argued. “The same things happened just in different ways. I don’t think the Fates care if we mean to fall or not.”

“Don’t jinx it.” Annabeth looked at Percy with concern in her eyes. “Jason’s dreams are proof that we can’t escape our past. Piper and Leo having strange deja vu moments? What if that happens during a battle? Gods, Percy, that could get them killed! I’ve been debating whether or not we should tell them, but…”

“If they knew, they would stop us,” Percy finished. “Or want to help.”

“But they need answers to what’s happening,” Annabeth continued. “And chances are, we might not see them until well after August 1st. I don’t know how long it will take for us to find the entrance and then navigate ourselves out of there. And that’s assuming we don’t go mad in there because then we  _ won’t _ be able to tell them anything about those memories.”

“We have to make it out,” Percy said. “We  _ have _ to.”

Annabeth managed a small laugh. “Yeah.”

“After this is all over, I think we deserve a break,” Percy said. “Right? We’ll close the Doors and find the Labyrinth, defeat Gaea, figure out what to do about Apollo, help Magnus and Alex with Ragnarok if they want our help, and then we’ll take a vacation.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

“A plan worthy of Athena?”

“I hope so.”

Percy stared into the fog. He couldn’t see anything around them, but he had perfect bearings at sea. He knew their exact latitude and longitude. He knew the depth of the ocean and which way the currents were flowing. He knew the ship’s speed, and could sense no rocks, sandbars, or other natural dangers in their path. Still, being blind was unsettling. And he couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad was bound to happen.

They hadn’t been attacked since they had touched the water, but the sea seemed different. Percy had been in the Atlantic, the Pacific, even the Gulf of Alaska, but this sea felt more ancient and powerful. Percy could sense its layers swirling below him. Every Greek or Roman hero had sailed these waters—from Hercules to Aeneas. Monsters still dwelt in the depths, so deeply wrapped in the Mist that they slept most of the time; but Percy could feel them stirring, responding to the Celestial bronze hull of a Greek trireme and the presence of demigod blood.

_ They are back, _ the monsters seemed to say.  _ Finally, fresh blood. _

“We’re not far from the Italian coast,” Percy said, mostly to break the silence. “Maybe a hundred nautical miles to the mouth of the Tiber.”

“Good,” Annabeth said. “By daybreak, we should—”

“Stop.” Percy’s skin felt washed with ice. “We have to stop.”

“Why?” Annabeth asked.

“Leo, stop!” he yelled.

Too late. The other boat appeared out of the fog and rammed them head-on. In that split second, Percy registered random details: another trireme; black sails painted with a gorgon’s head; hulking warriors, not quite human, crowded at the front of the boat in Greek armor, swords and spears ready; and a bronze ram at water level, slamming against the hull of the  _ Argo II. _

Annabeth and Percy were almost thrown overboard.

Festus blew fire, sending a dozen very surprised warriors screaming and diving into the sea, but more swarmed aboard the  _ Argo II. _ Grappling lines wrapped around the rails and the mast, digging iron claws into the hull’s planks.

By the time Percy had recovered his wits, the enemy was everywhere. He couldn’t see well through the fog and the dark, but the invaders seemed to be human-like dolphins, or dolphin-like humans. Some had gray snouts. Others held their swords in stunted flippers. Some waddled on legs partially fused together, while others had flippers for feet, which reminded Percy of clown shoes.

Leo sounded the alarm bell. He made a dash for the nearest ballista but went down under a pile of chattering dolphin warriors.

Too late, Percy managed to recall this memory. The mention of the golden boy in his dreams should have tipped him off, but he had casually brushed it aside. He should have remembered this when Bacchus brought up a worthy sacrifice back in Topeka, but he’d been so busy with the eidolons, it slipped his mind.

Annabeth and Percy stood back-to-back, as they’d done many times before, their weapons drawn. Percy tried to summon the waves despite knowing how useless it would be. He wished he could push the ships apart or even capsize the enemy vessel, but nothing happened. It almost felt like something was pushing against his will, wresting the sea from his control. Something like another son of Poseidon.

He raised Riptide, ready to fight, but they were hopelessly outnumbered. Several dozen warriors lowered their spears and made a ring around them, wisely keeping out of striking distance of Percy’s sword. The dolphin-men opened their snouts and made whistling, popping noises.

He tried to think. Maybe he could break out of the circle and destroy a few invaders, but not without the others skewering him and Annabeth.

At least the warriors didn’t seem interested in killing them immediately. They kept Percy and Annabeth contained while more of their comrades flooded belowdecks and secured the hull. Percy could hear them breaking down the cabin doors, scuffling with his friends. Even if the other demigods hadn’t been fast asleep, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against so many.

Leo was dragged across the deck, half-conscious and groaning, and dumped on a pile of ropes.

Below, the sounds of fighting tapered off. The others had been subdued.

On one side of the ring of spears, the dolphin warriors parted to let someone through. He appeared to be fully human, but from the way the dolphins fell back before him, he was clearly the leader. He was dressed in Greek combat armor—sandals, kilt, and greaves, a breastplate decorated with elaborate sea monster designs—and everything he wore was gold. Even his sword, a Greek blade like Riptide, was gold instead of bronze. The guy’s visor was a full face mask fashioned like a gorgon’s head—curved tusks, horrible features pinched into a snarl, and golden snake hair curling around the face.

Annabeth turned so she was shoulder to shoulder with Percy.

“What do you want?” Percy demanded.

The golden warrior chuckled. He struck at Percy with his blade. Percy barely had time to counteract it. He brought up Riptide to block the blow which seemed to startle his opponent, but he recovered quickly and swung again, easily disarming Percy with a flick. Riptide flew into the sea.

With a glower, Percy recalled one possible reason why he didn’t remember this until too late. He had never been disarmed so easily since his first time at Camp Half-Blood. He wasn’t one to brag about his skill, but even when he was disarmed, it usually followed a longer fight. This barely lasted five seconds.

“Hello, brother.” The golden warrior’s voice was rich and velvety, with an exotic Middle Eastern accent. “Always happy to rob a fellow son of Poseidon. I am Chrysaor, the Golden Sword. As for what I want…” He turned his metal mask toward Annabeth. “Well, that’s easy. I want everything you have.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chrysaor! I could have avoided this I guess, BUT... I mean, do you really want me getting rid of the classic "Oh no, Frank is turning into a crazy dolphin" scene? Or "tremble before the horror of diet coke" scene? I mean, those are easily two of the most amazing scenes in this book.


	32. Luke, You Are Not Helping (Percy XXXII)

PERCY’S HEART DID JUMPING JACKS while Chrysaor walked back and forth, inspecting them like prized cattle. A dozen of his dolphin-man warriors stayed in a ring around them, spears leveled at Percy’s chest, while dozens more ransacked the ship, banging and crashing around below-decks. One carried a box of ambrosia up the stairs. Another carried an armful of ballista bolts and a crate of Greek fire.

“Careful with that!” Annabeth warned. “It’ll blow up both our ships.”

“Ha!” Chrysaor said. “We know all about Greek fire, girl. Don’t worry. We’ve been looting and pillaging ships on the Mare Nostrum for eons.”

“That’s nice,” Percy said. “You’re Medusa’s kid, right? Sucks to be you.”

Judging from the sound in Chrysaor’s throat, he was now snarling under the mask.

“You are as arrogant as the first Perseus,” Chrysaor said. “But, yes, Percy Jackson. Poseidon was my father. Medusa was my mother. After Medusa was changed into a monster by that so-called goddess of wisdom…” The golden mask turned on Annabeth. “That would be your mother, I believe… Medusa’s two children were trapped inside her, unable to be born. When the original Perseus cut off Medusa’s head—”

“Two children sprang out,” Annabeth said. “Pegasus and you.”

“Too bad that’s the only thing anyone knows about you,” Percy said.

Chrysaor sighed in exasperation. “When your brother is Pegasus, you get used to being forgotten. Oh, look, a winged horse! Does anyone care about me? No!” He raised the tip of his blade to Percy’s eyes. “But don’t underestimate me. My name means the Golden Sword for a reason.”

“Imperial gold?” Percy said, glancing at the gold sword.

“Bah! Enchanted gold, yes. Later on, the Romans called it Imperial gold, but I was the first to ever wield such a blade. I should have been the most famous hero of all time! Since the legend-tellers decided to ignore me, I became a villain instead. I resolved to put my heritage to use. As the son of Medusa, I would inspire terror. As the son of Poseidon, I would rule the seas!”

“You became a pirate,” Annabeth summed up.

Chrysaor spread his arms, which was fine with Percy since it got the sword point away from his eyes.

“The best pirate,” Chrysaor said. “I’ve sailed these waters for centuries, waylaying any demigods foolish enough to explore the Mare Nostrum. This is my territory now. And all you have is mine.”

One of the dolphin warriors dragged Coach Hedge up from below.

“Let me go, you tuna fish!” Hedge bellowed. He tried to kick the warrior, but his hoof clanged off his captor’s armor. Judging from the hoof-shaped prints in the dolphin’s breastplate and helmet, the coach had already made several attempts.

“Ah, a satyr,” Chrysaor mused. “A little old and stringy, but Cyclopes will pay well for a morsel like him. Chain him up.”

“I’m nobody’s goat meat!” Hedge protested.

“Gag him as well,” Chrysaor decided.

“Why you gilded little—” Hedge’s insult was cut short when the dolphin put a greasy wad of canvas in his mouth. Soon the coach was trussed like a rodeo calf and dumped with the other loot—crates of food, extra weapons, even the magical ice chest from the mess hall.

“You can’t do this!” Annabeth shouted.

Chrysaor’s laughter reverberated inside his gold face mask. Percy wondered if he was horribly disfigured under there, or if his gaze could petrify people the way his mother’s could.

“I can do anything I want,” Chrysaor said. “My warriors have been trained to perfection. They are vicious, cutthroat—”

“Dolphins,” Percy noted.

Chrysaor shrugged. “Yes. So? They had some bad luck a few millennia ago, kidnapped the wrong person. Some of their crew got turned completely into dolphins. Others went mad. But these… these survived as hybrid creatures. When I found them under the sea and offered them a new life, they became my loyal crew. They fear nothing!”

One of the warriors chattered at him nervously.

“Yes, yes,” Chrysaor growled. “They fear one thing, but it hardly matters. He’s not here.”

More dolphin warriors climbed the stairs, hauling up the rest of his friends. Jason was unconscious. Judging from the new bruises on his face, he’d tried to fight. Hazel and Piper were bound hand and foot. Piper had a gag in her mouth, so apparently the dolphins had discovered she could charmspeak. Frank, Alex, and Magnus were the only ones missing, though two of the dolphins had bee stings covering their faces.  Percy knew Frank could turn into a swarm of bees, but he didn’t know about Alex.

“Excellent!” Chrysaor gloated. He directed his warriors to dump Jason by the crossbows. Then he examined the girls like they were Christmas presents, which made Percy grit his teeth.

“The boy is no use to me,” Chrysaor said. “But we have an understanding with the witch Circe. She will buy the women—either as slaves or trainees, depending on their skill. But not you, lovely Annabeth.”

Annabeth recoiled. “You are not taking me anywhere.”

“AHHHHHHHHHH!” someone yelled.

Percy looked up to see Magnus flying into action with Jack in his hand. Magnus’s sword and Chrysaor’s golden sword clashed in the air.

“The Vanir spawn,” Chrysaor growled. “I should have known you’d be here. And of course the legendary Sumarbrander. Are you aware how many are looking for this particular item?”

Magnus gritted his teeth. “Very.”

“Then you know what this sword is destined to do! I will enjoy taking it from you. The gods may have problems with other pantheons, but Gaea has no problem with them. Surt will make a wonderful ally.”

By now, Riptide had appeared back in his pocket. Percy drew his sword and joined Magnus in fighting Chrysaor. The blade should have gone straight through Chrysaor’s neck, but the golden warrior was unbelievably fast even as he fought two opponents.

He dodged and parried as the dolphin warriors backed up, guarding the other captives while giving their captain room to battle. They chattered and squeaked, egging him on, and Percy got the sinking suspicion the crew was used to this sort of entertainment. They didn’t feel their leader was in any sort of danger.

Percy hadn’t crossed swords with an opponent like this since… well, since he’d battled the war god Ares. Chrysaor was that good. Many of Percy’s powers had gotten stronger over the years, but swordplay wasn’t one of them.

He was rusty—at least against an adversary like Chrysaor. And that was embarrassing because Percy had lived through almost two timelines as a demigod.

They battled back and forth, thrusting and parrying. Without meaning to, Percy heard the voice of Luke Castellan, his first sword-fighting mentor at Camp Half-Blood, throwing out suggestions.

_ "Keep your guard up, Percy. No, not that far up!" _

_ "Aim for the legs. Knock him off balance." _

_ “Block, thrust, parry, thrust! Come on, Percy, you’re not even trying!” _

It wasn’t very helpful.

Meanwhile, Magnus had let go of Jack and consented to letting the sword fly around wildly. None of the dolphin-men had grabbed him, but they had grabbed Annabeth. One was holding a knife to her throat in case she tried anything tricky.

Percy feinted and thrust at Chrysaor’s gut, but Chrysaor anticipated the move. He knocked Percy’s sword out of his hand again, and once more Riptide flew into the sea. In the same move, he sent Jack hurtling back at Magnus, forcing the sword to revert back to pendant form and land neatly on Magnus’s necklace.

Of course, that made Magnus’s eyes roll up into the back of his head and the son of Frey passed out in a deep sleep before he even hit the ground.

Chrysaor laughed easily. He was barely winded from the fight. “Oh, sadly, Annabeth, you will not be staying with me. I would love that. But you and your friend Percy are spoken for. A certain goddess is paying a high bounty for your capture—alive, if possible, though she didn’t say you had to be unharmed.” He pressed the tip of his golden sword against Percy’s sternum.

“A good try,” said the pirate. “But now you’ll be chained and transported to Gaea’s minions. They are quite eager to spill your blood and wake the goddess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All that hype last chapter only to realize that those two lines happen in the NEXT chapter. Sorry, guys. I didn't realize that.


	33. Diet Coke Saves the Day (Percy XXXIII)

PERCY NEVER THOUGHT THE DOLPHIN THREAT would save his life (twice), but here he was with the exact pirates that had not been lucky enough to escape the dolphin threat. He just hoped that Frank and Alex—but mostly Alex—knew to follow his direction.

Percy glanced toward the stern and spotted Frank, in human form, peeking out from behind a ballista, waiting. Percy resisted the urge to smile. The big guy claimed to be clumsy and useless, but he always seemed to be in exactly the right place when Percy needed him.

Alex was crouched down beside Frank, eyes trained on Magnus’s still form with a stormy look in her heterochromatic eyes. At least Percy  _ thought _ Alex was a her at the moment since Alex was wearing—when did she have time to get all dressed up?—a green corduroy dress with a white shirt and pink leggings. But Percy wouldn’t put it past Alex just to wear that outfit just because he or she felt like it.

“Fine!” Percy shouted, so loudly that he got everyone’s attention. “Take us away, if our captain will let you.”

Chrysaor turned his golden mask. “What captain? My men searched the ship. There is no one else.”

Percy raised his hands dramatically. “The god appears only when he wishes. But he is our leader. He runs our camp for demigods. Doesn’t he, Annabeth?”

“Yes!” Annabeth nodded enthusiastically. “Mr. D! The great Dionysus!”

A ripple of uneasiness passed through the dolphin-men. One dropped his sword.

“Stand fast!” Chrysaor bellowed. “There is no god on this ship. They are trying to scare you.”

“You should be scared!” Percy looked at the pirate crew with sympathy. “Dionysus will be severely cranky with you for having delayed our voyage. He will punish all of us. Look! The girls are already falling into the wine god’s madness!”

Hazel and Piper stared at Percy until he glared at them pointedly. Piper let out a wail so loudly it could be heard through her gag. Then she fainted against the nearest guard, knocking him over. Hazel got the idea and crumpled to the deck, kicking her legs and thrashing like she was having a fit. They trembled and flopped around like fish.

The dolphin-men fell over themselves trying to get away from their captives.

“Fakes!” Chrysaor roared. “Shut up, Percy Jackson. Your camp director is not here. He was recalled to Olympus. This is common knowledge.”

“So you admit Dionysus is our director!” Percy said.

“He was,” Chrysaor corrected. “Everyone knows that.”

Percy gestured at the golden warrior like he’d just betrayed himself. “You see? We are doomed. If you don’t believe me, let’s check the ice chest!”

Percy stormed over to the magical cooler. No one tried to stop him. He knocked open the lid and rummaged through the ice. His hand closed around a silver-and-red can of soda. He brandished it at the dolphin warriors as if spraying them with bug repellent.

“Behold!” Percy shouted. “The god’s chosen beverage. Tremble before the horror of Diet Coke!”

The dolphin-men began to panic. They were on the edge of retreat. Percy could feel it.

“The god will take your ship,” Percy warned. “He will finish your transformation into dolphins, or make you insane, or transform you into insane dolphins! Your only hope is to swim away now, quickly!”

“Ridiculous!” Chrysaor’s voice turned shrill. He didn’t seem sure where to level his sword—at Percy or his own crew.

“Save yourselves!” Percy warned. “It is too late for us!”

Then he gasped and pointed to the spot where Frank and Alex were hiding. “Oh, no! Frank and Alex are turning into crazy dolphins!”

Nothing happened.

“I said,” Percy repeated, “Frank and Alex are turning into crazy dolphins!”

Frank stumbled out of nowhere, making a big show of grabbing his throat. “Oh, no,” he said, like he was reading from a teleprompter. “I am turning into a crazy dolphin.”

He began to change, his nose elongating into a snout, his skin becoming sleek and gray. He fell to the deck as a dolphin, his tail thumping against the boards.

Alex was much more dramatic. She stumbled out from behind the ballista, gasping and choking. She fell to the ground, clawing her way towards them. As she moved, her body slowly changed. First her legs fused together into a dolphin tail. The grey dolphin skin traveled up her legs to her waist, torso, and finally to her head. In her place was a dolphin that was flapping its tail against the ground like it was trying to swim.

The pirate crew disbanded in terror, chattering and clicking as they dropped their weapons, forgot the captives, ignored Chrysaor’s orders, and jumped overboard. In the confusion, Annabeth moved quickly to cut the bonds on Hazel, Piper, and Coach Hedge.

Within seconds, Chrysaor was alone and surrounded. Percy and his friends had no weapons except for Annabeth’s knife and Hedge’s hooves, but the murderous looks on their faces evidently convinced the golden warrior he was doomed.

He backed to the edge of the rail.

“This isn’t over, Jackson,” Chrysaor growled. “I will have my revenge—”

His words were cut short by Frank, who had changed form again. An eight-hundred-pound grizzly bear can definitely break up a conversation. He sideswiped Chrysaor and raked the golden mask off his helmet. Chrysaor screamed, instantly covering his face with his arms and tumbling into the water.

They ran to the rail. Chrysaor had disappeared.

“I wanted to scare him,” Alex said, staring into the water.

“At least you were the most fashionably dressed dolphin-person,” Percy said.

Alex grinned. “I am, aren’t I?” She glanced back at Magnus who was still passed out on the ground. “I’m going to move him back to his room.” She left to go to Magnus.

“Now what?” Piper asked, staring at Chrysaor’s ship. “Burn it?”

“No,” Percy said. “I’ve got another idea.”

* * *

It took them longer than Percy wanted. As they worked, he kept glancing at the sea, waiting for Chrysaor and his pirate dolphins to return, but they didn’t.

Leo got back on his feet, thanks to a little nectar. Piper tended to Jason’s wounds, but he wasn’t as badly hurt as he looked. Mostly he was just ashamed that he’d gotten overpowered again, which Percy could relate to.

They returned all their own supplies to the proper places and tidied up from the invasion while Coach Hedge had a field day on the enemy ship, breaking everything he could find with his baseball bat.

When he was done, Percy loaded the enemy’s weapons back on the pirate ship. Their storeroom was full of treasure, but Percy insisted that they touch none of it.

“I can sense about six million dollars’ worth of gold aboard,” Hazel said. “Plus diamonds, rubies—”

“Six m-million?” Frank stammered. “Canadian dollars or American?”

“Leave it,” Percy said. “It’s part of the tribute.”

“Tribute?” Hazel asked.

“Oh.” Piper nodded. “Kansas.”

Jason grinned. He’d been there too when they’d met the wine god. “Crazy. But I like it.”

Finally Percy went aboard the pirate ship and opened the flood valves. He asked Leo to drill a few extra holes in the bottom of the hull with his power tools, and Leo was happy to oblige.

The crew of the  _ Argo II _ assembled at the rail and cut the grappling lines. Piper brought out her new horn of plenty and, on Percy’s direction, willed it to spew Diet Coke, which came out with the strength of a fire hose, dousing the enemy deck. The ship sank remarkably fast, filling with Diet Coke and seawater.

“Dionysus,” Percy called, holding up Chrysaor’s golden mask. “Or Bacchus—whatever. You made this victory possible, even if you weren’t here. Your enemies trembled at your name… or your Diet Coke, or something. So, yeah, thank you.” The words were hard to get out, but Percy managed not to gag. “We give this ship to you as tribute. We hope you like it.”

“Six million in gold,” Leo muttered. “He’d better like it.”

“Shh,” Hazel scolded. “Precious metal isn’t all that great. Believe me.”

Percy threw the golden mask aboard the vessel, which was now sinking even faster, brown fizzy liquid spewing out the trireme’s oar slots and bubbling from the cargo hold, turning the sea frothy brown. Percy summoned a wave, and the enemy ship was swamped. Leo steered the  _ Argo II _ away as the pirate vessel disappeared underwater.

“Isn’t that polluting?” Piper asked.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Jason told her. “If Bacchus likes it, the ship should vanish.”

Percy really hoped that would happen because he was counting on the wine dude to show up and help him and Jason defeat the twins.

As the  _ Argo II _ headed east into the fog, Percy decided at least one good thing had come out of his sword fight with Chrysaor. He was feeling humble—even humble enough to pay tribute to the wine dude. For a second time.

* * *

After their bout with the pirates, they decided to fly the rest of the way to Rome. Jason insisted he was well enough to take sentry duty, along with Coach Hedge, who was still so charged with adrenaline that every time the ship hit turbulence, he swung his bat and yelled, “Die!”

They had a couple of hours before daybreak, so Jason suggested Percy try to get a few more hours of sleep.

“It’s fine, man,” Jason said. “Give somebody else a chance to save the ship, huh?”

Percy agreed, though once in his cabin, he had trouble falling asleep.

He stared at the bronze lantern swaying from the ceiling and thought about how easily Chrysaor had beaten him at swordplay. The golden warrior could’ve killed him without breaking a sweat. He’d only kept Percy alive because someone else wanted to pay for the privilege of killing him later.

Not killing necessarily, he corrected himself. Gaea just needed a drop of his blood, though he didn’t doubt the earth goddess would drain him of all his blood anyway. That probably wasn’t a very fun way to die, though Percy would love to see the different attempts Gaea’s minions made to try and make him bleed with the Curse of Achilles still in effect.

Percy felt like an arrow had slipped through a chink in his armor and found his weak spot. The older he got, the longer he survived as a half-blood, the more his friends looked up to him. They depended on him and relied on his powers. Even the Romans had raised him on a shield and made him praetor, and he’d only known them for a week.

But Percy didn’t feel powerful. The more heroic stuff he did, the more he realized how limited he was. He felt like a fraud. Especially now that he and Annabeth were pulling strings and manipulating events. Things he did with ease, he probably didn’t deserve all the credit because he knew what was going to happen. Things he forgot, he deserved a slap on the head for being careless.

_ I’m not as great as you think, _ he wanted to warn his friends. His failures, like tonight, seemed to prove it. That was probably why he had started to fear suffocation. It wasn’t so much drowning in the earth or the sea, but the feeling that he was sinking into too many expectations, literally getting in over his head.

Wow… when he started having thoughts like that, he knew he’d been spending too much time with Annabeth.

Athena had once told Percy his fatal flaw: he was supposedly too loyal to his friends. He couldn’t see the big picture. He would save a friend even if it meant destroying the world. At the time, Percy had shrugged this off. How could loyalty be a bad thing? Besides, things worked out okay against the Titans. He’d saved his friends and beaten Kronos.

And then Tartarus happened. Bacchus had said he would have a hard journey, but Percy never figured out if he meant the fall to Tartarus, or if he meant continuing the quest  _ without _ Annabeth. Sometimes, Percy wondered if he was  _ supposed to _ have let Annabeth fall alone, but because of his fatal flaw, he’d put the entire quest, the entire mission to defeat Gaea, at risk.

And Leo… Percy would gladly have thrown himself at any monster, god, or giant to keep Leo from sacrificing himself. It was hard to step back and let that happen. It was even harder to sit back and  _ watch _ it happen  _ again. _ He hadn’t told Annabeth, but he’d been thinking of ways to try and prevent Leo’s death. Nothing had been particularly promising though.

Exhaustion finally overtook him. He fell asleep, and in his nightmare, the rumble of thunder became the laughter of the earth goddess Gaea.

Percy dreamed he was standing on the front porch of the Big House at Camp Half-Blood. The sleeping face of Gaea appeared on the side of Half-Blood Hill—her massive features formed from the shadows on the grassy slopes. Her lips didn’t move, but her voice echoed across the valley.

_ So this is your home, _ Gaea murmured.  _ Take a last look, Percy Jackson. You should have returned here. At least then you could have died with your comrades when the Romans invade. Now your blood will be spilled far from home, on the ancient stones, and I will rise. _

The ground shook. At the top of Half-Blood Hill, Thalia’s pine tree burst into flames. Disruption rolled across the valley—grass turning to sand, forest crumbling to dust. The river and the canoe lake dried up. The cabins and the Big House burned to ashes. When the tremor stopped, Camp Half-Blood looked like a wasteland after an atomic blast. The only thing left was the porch where Percy stood.

Next to him, the dust swirled and solidified into the figure of a woman. Her eyes were closed, as if she were sleepwalking. Her robes were forest green, dappled with gold and white like sunlight shifting through branches. Her hair was as black as tilled soil. Her face was beautiful, but even with a dreamy smile on her lips she seemed cold and distant. Percy got the feeling she could watch demigods die or cities burn, and that smile wouldn’t waver.

“When I reclaim the earth,” Gaea said, “I will leave this spot barren forever, to remind me of your kind and how utterly powerless they were to stop me. It doesn’t matter when you fall, my sweet little pawn—to Phorcys or Chrysaor or my dear twins. You will fall, and I will be there to devour you. Your only choice now… will you fall alone? Come to me willingly; bring the girl. Perhaps I will spare this place you love. Otherwise…”

Gaea opened her eyes. They swirled in green and black, as deep as the crust of the earth. Gaea saw everything. Her patience was infinite. She was slow to wake, but once she arose, her power was unstoppable.

Percy’s skin tingled. His hands went numb. He looked down and realized he was crumbling to dust, like all the monsters he’d ever defeated.

“Enjoy Tartarus, my little pawn,” Gaea purred.

A metallic CLANG-CLANG-CLANG jolted Percy out of his dream. His eyes shot open. He realized he’d just heard the landing gear being lowered.

There was a knock on his door, and Jason poked his head in. The bruises on his face had faded. His blue eyes glittered with excitement.

“Hey, man,” he said. “We’re descending over Rome. You really should see this.”

* * *

The sky was brilliant blue, as if the stormy weather had never happened. The sun rose over the distant hills, so everything below them shone and sparkled like the entire city of Rome had just come out of the car wash.

Percy would have liked to return to Rome and Greece with Annabeth eventually. No quests, no world ending crisis. Just two people together on a romantic vacation.

The city of Rome was amazing. It spread through hills and valleys, jumped over the Tiber with dozens of bridges, and just kept sprawling to the horizon. Streets and alleys zigzagged with no rhyme or reason through quilts of neighborhoods. Glass office buildings stood next to excavation sites. A cathedral stood next to a line of Roman columns, which stood next to a modern soccer stadium. In some neighborhoods, old stucco villas with red-tiled roofs crowded the cobblestone streets, so that if Percy concentrated just on those areas, he could imagine he was back in ancient times. Everywhere he looked, there were wide piazzas and traffic-clogged streets. Parks cut across the city with a crazy collection of palm trees, pines, junipers, and olive trees, as if Rome couldn’t decide what part of the world it belonged to—or maybe it just believed all the world still belonged to Rome.

It was as if the city knew about Percy’s dream of Gaea. It knew that the earth goddess intended on razing all human civilization, and this city, which had stood for thousands of years, was saying back to her:  _ You wanna dissolve this city, Dirt Face? Give it a shot. _

In other words, it was the Coach Hedge of mortal cities—only taller.

“We’re setting down in that park,” Leo announced, pointing to a wide green space dotted with palm trees. “Let’s hope the Mist makes us look like a large pigeon or something.”

Whatever the Mist did, it seemed to work. Percy didn’t notice any cars veering off the road or Romans pointing to the sky and screaming, “Aliens!” The  _ Argo II _ set down in the grassy field and the oars retracted.

The noise of traffic was all around them, but the park itself was peaceful and deserted. To their left, a green lawn sloped toward a line of woods. An old villa nestled in the shade of some weird-looking pine trees with thin curvy trunks that shot up thirty or forty feet, then sprouted into puffy canopies. They reminded Percy of trees in those Dr. Seuss books his mom used to read him when he was little.

To their right, snaking along the top of a hill, was a long brick wall with notches at the top for archers—maybe a medieval defensive line, maybe Ancient Roman. Percy wasn’t sure.

To the north, about a mile away through the folds of the city, the top of the Colosseum rose above the rooftops, looking just like it did in travel photos. That’s when Percy’s legs started shaking. He was actually here. Suddenly, he wasn’t so eager to return to Rome after this. It was, after all, the place where he would be falling to literal hell in less than 24 hours.

Jason pointed to the base of the archers’ wall, where steps led down into some kind of tunnel. “I think I know where we are,” he said. “That’s the Tomb of the Scipios.”

Percy frowned. “Scipio… Reyna’s pegasus?”

“No,” Annabeth put in. “They were a noble Roman family, and… wow, this place is amazing.”

Jason nodded. “I’ve studied maps of Rome before. I’ve always wanted to come here, but…”

Nobody bothered finishing that sentence. Looking at his friends’ faces, Percy could tell they were just as much in awe as he was. They’d made it. They’d landed in Rome—the Rome.

“Plans?” Hazel asked. “Nico has until sunset—at best. And this entire city is supposedly getting destroyed today.”

“Right,” Percy said, shaking himself from his daze. “Annabeth and I… well, I’ll go with her to the spot on the map.”

“Yes,” Annabeth nodded, face slowly losing color. “Okay. Um, yeah. That would be… that would be nice.” She looked at Hazel. “Now that we’re in Rome, can you pinpoint Nico’s location?”

Hazel bit her lip. “Um… hopefully, if I get close enough. I’ll have to walk around the city. Frank, would you come with me?”

Frank beamed. “Absolutely.”

“And, uh… Leo,” Hazel added. “It might be a good idea if you came along too. The fish-centaurs said we’d need your help with something mechanical.”

“Yeah,” Leo said, “no problem.”

Frank’s smile turned into something more like Chrysaor’s mask.

Percy resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Piper drew her knife and set it on the rail. “Magnus, Alex, Jason and I can watch the ship for now. I’ll see what Katoptris can show me. But, Hazel, if you guys get a fix on Nico’s location, don’t go in there by yourselves. Come back and get us. It’ll take all of us to fight the giants.”

She didn’t say the obvious: even all of them together wouldn’t be enough, unless they had a god on their side. Percy decided not to bring that up.

“Good idea,” Percy said. “How about we plan to meet back here at… what?”

“Three this afternoon?” Jason suggested. “That’s probably the latest we could rendezvous and still hope to fight the giants and save Nico. If something happens to change the plan, try to send an Iris-message.”

The others nodded in agreement, but Percy noticed several of them glancing at Annabeth. Another thing no one wanted to say: Annabeth would be on a different schedule. She might be back at three, or much later, or never. But she would be on her own, searching for the Athena Parthenos.

Coach Hedge grunted. “That’ll give me time to eat the coconuts—I mean dig the coconuts out of our hull. Percy, Annabeth… I don’t like you two going off on your own. Just remember: behave. If I hear about any funny business, I will ground you until the Styx freezes over.”

Percy almost started sobbing. He would happily take getting grounded by Coach Hedge over what awaited them.

Instead, he swallowed the lump in his throat and looked around at his friends. “We’ll be back soon. Good luck, everyone.”

“Annabeth!” Magnus called, hurrying over to give his cousin a hug.

The two cousins stayed like that for a minute. Percy figured Annabeth was trying to collect herself before she moved her head out of Magnus’s blonde hair.

“Come back,” Magnus said when the hug ended.

Annabeth gave him a small smile. “I will.”

Leo lowered the gangplank, and Percy and Annabeth were first off the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The iconic Diet Coke scene! Honestly, once we get to whatever season this episode would be, I'm going to need them to turn it into an actual Diet Coke commercial. Like, for real this would be amazing.


	34. Our Last Date Before We Fall (Percy XXXIV)

UNDER DIFFERENT CIRCUMSTANCES, wandering through Rome with Annabeth would have been pretty awesome. They held hands as they navigated the winding streets, dodging cars and crazy Vespa drivers, squeezing through mobs of tourists, and wading through oceans of pigeons. The day warmed up quickly. Once they got away from the car exhaust on the main roads, the air smelled of baking bread and freshly cut flowers.

They aimed for the Colosseum because that was an easy landmark, but getting there proved harder than Percy anticipated. As big and confusing as the city had looked from above, it was even more so on the ground. Several times they got lost on dead-end streets. They found beautiful fountains and huge monuments by accident.

Annabeth commented on the architecture and Percy tried to listen, but he could tell her heart wasn’t really in it. He let his eyes wander around as they walked. Once he spotted a glowing purple Lar glaring at them from the window of an apartment building. Another time he saw a white-robed woman—maybe a nymph or a goddess—holding a wicked-looking knife, slipping between ruined columns in a public park. Nothing attacked them, but Percy felt like they were being watched, and the watchers were not friendly.

Finally they reached the Colosseum, where a dozen guys in cheap gladiator costumes were scuffling with the police—plastic swords versus batons. Percy wasn’t sure what that was about, but he and Annabeth decided to keep walking. Sometimes mortals were even stranger than monsters.

They made their way west, stopping every once in a while to ask directions to the river. Percy wished Nico was with them and not dying in a jar. The little Italian guy would have been useful when trying to speak to the Italians. Sure, they switched to English once they realized Percy and Annabeth had no idea what they were saying, but it would have been nice.

They used an international credit card Annabeth had brought with her from Daedalus’s laptop to buy some sodas which were long gone by the time they arrived at the Tiber.

The shore was edged with a stone embankment. A chaotic assortment of warehouses, apartments, stores, and cafés crowded the riverfront. The Tiber itself was wide, lazy, and caramel-colored. A few tall cypress trees hung over the banks. The nearest bridge looked fairly new, made from iron girders, but right next to it stood a crumbling line of stone arches that stopped halfway across the river—ruins that might’ve been left over from the days of the Caesars.

Annabeth stopped walking. “This is it.”

“This is it,” Percy repeated.

“I don’t want to do this, Percy,” Annabeth said, voice quivering. “It was so easy to talk about it, but now that it’s  _ here _ , now that we’re  _ doing this _ , I’m terrified.”

“We could figure something else out,” Percy said weakly. If he was honest, he hoped Annabeth took him up on that. “I’ll go with you. We’ll send Arachne to Tartarus without damaging the foundations anymore than they already are and wait for everyone.”

“I’d like that,” Annabeth said wistfully. “But… but I have to do this on my own. The Mark won’t appear if you’re with me. Just… come back to me. Don’t keep me waiting.”

“I’ll be there,” Percy promised. “Lunch?”

* * *

Even though it was noon, the restaurant was empty. They picked a table outside by the river, and a waiter hurried over. He looked a bit surprised to see them—especially when they said they wanted lunch.

“American?” he asked, with a pained smile.

“Yes,” Annabeth said. She ordered a panini and some fizzy water and after carefully recalling the last time, Percy said he’d get the same.

After the waiter left, Annabeth smiled. “You didn’t get a pizza?”

“First of all, I remembered what you said,” Percy informed her. “Pizza for tourists. Also, Nico told me about Italian eating patterns.”

_ “12:30-2:30, Percy! That’s when most Italians eat lunch and dinner is 8:00-10:00.” _

_ “But you don’t.” _

_ “Because I live in America where you eat food really early!” _

_ “Maybe we’re the ones eating at the right time and you’re just late.” _

_ “Maybe you’re annoying.” _

Percy smiled fondly. “That was hilarious. He was yelling at me and waving his arms around. Didn’t even notice the crowd of campers until he was done ranting.”

Annabeth laughed.

They held hands across the table. Percy was content just to look at Annabeth in the sunlight. It always made her hair so bright and warm. Her eyes took on the colors of the sky and the cobblestones, alternately brown or blue.

Lunch arrived. The waiter looked much calmer. Having accepted the fact that they were clueless Americans, he had apparently decided to forgive them and treat them politely.

“It is a beautiful view,” he said, nodding toward the river. “Enjoy, please.”

Once he left, they ate in silence. The panini was good, but Percy still would have preferred a nice pepperoni pizza.

“You’re going to do great,” Percy said.

Annabeth smiled. “Of course I will. And you… you’ll find Nico. Could you… could you tell him I’m sorry for agreeing to this?”

“Yeah,” Percy said. “Of course. Just stop blaming yourself. Nico wouldn’t blame you.”

The sound of a Vespa interrupted them. The driver was a guy in a silky gray suit. Behind him sat a younger woman with a headscarf, her hands around the man’s waist. They weaved between café tables and puttered to a stop next to Percy and Annabeth.

Annabeth let out a squeak. She dropped her sandwich back on the plate and placed her trembling hands in her lap.

“Why, hello,” the man said. His voice was deep, almost croaky, like a movie actor’s. His hair was short and greased back from his craggy face. He was handsome in a 1950s dad-on-television way. Even his clothes seemed old-fashioned. When he stepped off his bike, the waistline of his slacks was way higher than normal, but somehow he still managed to look manly and stylish and not like a total goober. Percy had trouble guessing his age—maybe thirty-something, though the man’s fashion and manner seemed grandfatherish.

The woman slid off the bike. “We’ve had the most lovely morning,” she said breathlessly. She looked about twenty-one, also dressed in an old-fashioned style. Her ankle-length marigold skirt and white blouse were pinched together with a large leather belt, giving her the narrowest waist Percy had ever seen. When she removed her scarf, her short wavy black hair bounced into perfect shape. She had dark playful eyes and a brilliant smile. Percy had seen naiads that looked less pixieish than this lady.

“I’m Rhea Silvia,” the woman said. “I was the mother to Romulus and Remus, thousands of years ago. And this is my husband…”

“Tiberinus,” said the man, thrusting out his hand to Percy in a manly way. “God of the River Tiber.”

Percy shook his hand. The guy smelled of aftershave. Of course, if Percy were the Tiber River, he’d probably want to mask the smell with cologne too.

“Uh, hi,” Percy said. “You’re here to help, Annabeth?”

“My naiads told me you two were here.” Tiberinus cast his dark eyes toward Annabeth. “You have the map, my dear? And your letter of introduction?”

“Yes,” Annabeth said in a small voice. She handed him the letter and the bronze disk.

Tiberinus scanned the items. “Well, your documents seem in order. We should get going. The Mark of Athena awaits!”

Percy took Annabeth’s hands. “Hey, I love you. You got this. Okay? You’re going to do this and I’ll be there when you finish.”

Annabeth took a deep breath. “You’re right. I can do this. I  _ know _ I can do this.”

“There you go,” Percy nodded.

“Percy Jackson,” Tiberinus said. “You must return to your friends now. You have less time that you realize to rescue your friend in the jar. You must hurry.”

“The way will appear in your friend Piper’s knife,” Rhea Silvia added.

Percy felt like Kronos when he swallowed a rock. “Nico? Less time?”

That didn’t make sense. If Nico knew what was going to happen, which he did, he would have been prepared to spend days in that bronze jar. Surely Nico had brought a whole garden of seeds.

But Percy thought back to when he’d seen Nico in his dream. There hadn’t been very many seeds.

“Go,” Annabeth said. “Save Nico.” She kissed him, shouldered her backpack, and then climbed on the back of the scooter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kinda got a little emotional trying to put myself in Percy and Annabeth's shoes in this scene. Like, no way would I be able to do what they're planning to do. I wouldn't WANT to do it either.


	35. My Trials Begin (Annabeth XXXV)

ANNABETH LOATHED LEAVING PERCY, but she had to do this on her own. Even if she didn’t want to.

As the baby-blue scooter zipped through the streets of Rome, the goddess Rhea Silvia gave Annabeth a running commentary on how the city had changed over the centuries.

“The Sublician Bridge was over there,” she said, pointing to a bend in the Tiber. “You know, where Horatius and his two friends defended the city from an invading army? Now, there was a brave Roman!”

“And look, dear,” Tiberinus added, “that’s the place where Romulus and Remus washed ashore.” He seemed to be talking about a spot on the riverside where some ducks were making a nest out of torn-up plastic bags and candy wrappers.

“Ah, yes,” Rhea Silvia sighed happily. “You were so kind to flood yourself and wash my babies ashore for the wolves to find.”

“It was nothing,” Tiberinus said.

Annabeth felt light-headed. The river god was talking about something that had happened thousands of years ago, when this area was nothing but marshes and maybe some shacks. Tiberinus saved two babies, one of whom went on to found the world’s greatest empire. It was nothing.

Rhea Silvia pointed out a large modern apartment building. “That used to be a temple to Venus. Then it was a church. Then a palace. Then an apartment building. It burned down three times. Now it’s an apartment building again. And that spot right there—”

“Please,” Annabeth said. “You’re making me dizzy.”

And with everything on her mind right now, she might just throw up.

Rhea Silvia laughed. “I’m sorry, dear. Layers upon layers of history here, but it’s nothing compared to Greece. Athens was old when Rome was a collection of mud huts. You’ll see, if you survive.”

“Not helping,” Annabeth muttered.

“Here we are,” Tiberinus announced. He pulled over in front of a large marble building, the facade covered in city grime but still beautiful. Ornate carvings of Roman gods decorated the roofline. The massive entrance was barred with iron gates, heavily padlocked.

“Excellent,” Annabeth sighed.

Tiberinus pointed to a set of stone steps on the side of the building—the sort that would have led to a basement apartment if this place were in Manhattan.

“Rome is chaotic aboveground,” Tiberinus said, “but that’s nothing compared to below ground. You must descend into the buried city, Annabeth Chase. Find the altar of the foreign god. The failures of your predecessors will guide you. After that… I do not know.”

Annabeth’s backpack felt heavy on her shoulders. “I have to do this. For all my siblings that failed and for the hope of peace between Greeks and Romans.”

Rhea Silvia nodded. “It could change the course of the coming war.”

“It will,” Annabeth said.

Tiberinus watched her. “You also understand the guardian you must face?”

“Yes.”

Rhea Silvia looked at her husband. “She is brave. Perhaps she is stronger than the others.”

“I hope so,” said the river god. “Good-bye, Annabeth Chase. And good luck.”

Rhea Silvia beamed. “We have such a lovely afternoon planned! Off to shop!”

The pair sped off on their baby-blue motorbike. Then Annabeth turned and descended the steps alone.

* * *

She’d been underground plenty of times. By the gods, she’d been underground in this exact location before.

But halfway down the steps, she collapsed into a crying mess. Now that she was alone, there was no one to put on a brave face for. Tears streamed down her face and sobs wracked her body. What was she thinking? She barely survived the first time and now she was heading straight back to the place that had caused her so much grief and anguish.

Finally, she took a deep shuddering breath and wiped her face. She stood up.

“You did this once before,” she said to herself. “You can do this. Puddles of tears don’t help anyone. Deep breaths. And go.”

She forced herself to keep going.

At the bottom of the steps she reached an old wooden door with an iron pull ring. Above the ring was a metal plate with a keyhole. As soon as she touched the pull ring, a fiery shape burned in the middle of the door: the silhouette of Athena’s owl. Smoke plumed from the keyhole. The door swung inward.

Annabeth looked up one last time. At the top of the stairwell, the sky was a square of brilliant blue. Mortals would be enjoying the warm afternoon. Couples would be holding hands at the cafés. Tourists would be bustling through the shops and museums. Regular Romans would be going about their daily business, probably not considering the thousands of years of history under their feet, and definitely unaware of the spirits, gods, and monsters that still dwelt here, or the fact that their city might be destroyed today unless a certain group of demigods succeeded in stopping the giants.

Annabeth stepped through the doorway.

She found herself in a basement that was an architectural cyborg. Ancient brick walls were crisscrossed with modern electrical cables and plumbing. The ceiling was held up with a combination of steel scaffolding and old granite Roman columns.

The front half of the basement was stacked with crates. Annabeth opened them. Some crates had multicolored spools of string—like for kites and crafts projects. Others were full of cheap plastic gladiator swords.

_ Test one, _ Annabeth thought.

She set to work. Within minutes she’d used a dozen balls of string and a crateful of swords to create a makeshift rope ladder—a braided line, woven for strength yet not too thick, with swords tied at two-foot intervals to serve as hand- and footholds.

As a test, she tied one end around a support column and leaned on the rope with all her weight. The plastic swords bent under her, but they provided some extra bulk to the knots in the cord, so at least she could keep a better grip.

The ladder wouldn’t win any design awards, but it was good enough for what she needed to use it for.

Annabeth stuffed her backpack with the leftover spools of string and then headed towards the back of the basement where the floor had been excavated, revealing another set of steps leading deeper underground.

She flipped a light switch, causing glaring white fluorescent bulbs to illuminate the stairs. Below, she saw a mosaic floor decorated with deer and fauns. She climbed down. The room was about twenty feet square. The walls had once been brightly painted, but most of the frescoes had peeled or faded. The only exit was a hole dug in one corner of the floor where the mosaic had been pulled up.

Annabeth peered down into the hole. The Mark of Athena blazed to life at the bottom of the cavern, revealing glistening brickwork along a subterranean canal forty feet below.

She gritted her teeth at the owl, her irritation from the first time coming back with a blazing fire. “I’m going, I’m going,” she muttered.

She secured one end of her ladder to the nearest piece of scaffolding, lowered the rope into the cavern, and shinnied down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annabeth is allowed a breakdown. Gah, if I was her (or any other demigod really) I probably would have had mine in the first chapter, haha.


	36. I Become the Big Mother (Annabeth XXXVI)

AS ANNABETH HUNG IN THE AIR, descending hand over hand with the ladder swinging wildly, she thanked Chiron for all those years of training on the climbing course at Camp Half-Blood. She’d complained loudly and often that rope climbing would never help her defeat a monster. Chiron had just smiled, like he knew this day would come.

Finally Annabeth made it to the bottom. She missed the brickwork edge and landed in the canal, but it turned out to be only a few inches deep. Freezing water soaked into her running shoes. She held up her glowing dagger. The shallow channel ran down the middle of a brickwork tunnel.

Every few yards, ceramic pipes jutted from the walls. She guessed that the pipes were drains, part of the ancient Roman plumbing system, though it was amazing to her that a tunnel like this had survived, crowded underground with all the other centuries’ worth of pipes, basements, and sewers.

Annabeth didn’t bother tying her string to the end of the rope ladder. She wouldn’t be returning this way, and once she got to the next room, the string would just get cut off anyway.

About fifty feet to her left, the Mark of Athena blazed against the wall. Annabeth could swear it was glaring at her with those big fiery eyes, as if to say,  _ What’s your problem? Hurry up! _

She hoped for the owl’s sake that this would be the last time she had to complete the Mark of Athena. If she got caught up in  _ another _ time traveling adventure, that owl could kiss the world goodbye.

So yeah. She really didn’t like that owl.

* * *

By the time she reached the spot, the image had faded. There was a broken section in the brickwork, as if a sledgehammer had knocked a hole in the wall. She crossed to take a look. Sticking her dagger through the opening for light, Annabeth could see a lower chamber, long and narrow, with a mosaic floor, painted walls, and benches running down either side. It was shaped sort of like a subway car.

Annabeth thanked her foresight for having the brilliant idea to read a little more about Mithras so she actually sounded confident in her answers. Also, she didn’t trust herself to interpret everything correctly this time. Knowing her luck, she would mess up.

She stuck her head into the hole, hoping nothing would bite it off. At the near end of the room was a bricked-off doorway. At the far end was a stone table. An altar.

Annabeth climbed through the hole and lowered herself into the room.

The room’s ceiling was barrel-shaped with brick arches, but Annabeth didn’t like the look of the supports. Especially knowing how easy it was for her to cause the place to come tumbling down. Directly above her head, on the arch nearest to the bricked-in doorway, the capstone was cracked in half. Stress fractures ran across the ceiling.

The floor was a long narrow mosaic with seven pictures in a row, like a timeline. At Annabeth’s feet was a raven. Next was a lion. Several others looked like Roman warriors with various weapons. The rest were too damaged or covered in dust for Annabeth to make out details. The benches on either side were littered with broken pottery. The walls were painted with scenes of a banquet: a robed man with a curved cap like an ice cream scoop, sitting next to a larger guy who radiated sunbeams. Standing around them were torchbearers and servants, and various animals like crows and lions wandered in the background.

At the far end of the room, the altar was elaborately carved with a frieze showing the man with the ice-cream-scoop hat holding a knife to the neck of a bull. On the altar stood a stone figure of a man sunk to his knees in rock, a dagger and a torch in his outraised hands.

Annabeth took a step towards the altar, maybe she could tie some string around it so she didn’t have to completely freefall out of the room. Her foot went CRUNCH. She looked down and realized she’d just put her shoe through a human rib cage.

Annabeth swallowed back a scream. Where had that come from? She had glanced down only a moment before and hadn’t seen any bones. Now the floor was littered with them. The rib cage was obviously old. It crumbled to dust as she removed her foot. Nearby lay a corroded bronze dagger very much like her own.

She held out her blade to see in front of her. A little farther down the mosaic path sprawled a more complete skeleton in the remains of an embroidered red doublet, like a man from the Renaissance. His frilled collar and skull had been badly burned, as if the guy had decided to wash his hair with a blowtorch.

Annabeth hated this room.

“I will not be another skeleton on your floor,” she called to the statue on the altar which held a dagger and a torch.

_ A girl, _ said a watery voice, echoing through the room.  _ Girls are not allowed. _

_ A female demigod, _ said a second voice.  _ Inexcusable. _

The chamber rumbled. Dust fell from the cracked ceiling. Along the benches, a dozen ghosts shimmered into existence—glowing purple men in Roman togas, like the Lares at Camp Jupiter. They glared at Annabeth as if she’d interrupted their meeting.

Annabeth stood up straighter. “I’m a child of Athena,” she said, as boldly as she could manage.

“A Greek,” one of the ghosts said with disgust. “That is even worse.”

At the other end of the chamber, an old-looking ghost rose with some difficulty (do ghosts have arthritis?) and stood by the altar, his dark eyes fixed on Annabeth. Her first thought was that he looked like the pope. He had a glittering robe, a pointed hat, and a shepherd’s crook.

“This is the cavern of Mithras,” said the old ghost. “You have disturbed our sacred rituals. You cannot look upon our mysteries and live.”

“I’m not looking upon you mysteries, I already  _ know _ your mysteries,” Annabeth said. “Anyone who can read can learn about them. Now, I’m following the Mark of Athena, so if you show me the exit, I’ll leave you alone.”

The ghost with the pope hat glared at her. “You do not know our mysteries. Your Greek goddess is powerless here,” he said. “Mithras is the god of Roman warriors! He is the god of the legion, the god of the empire!”

“You’re the pater of your brotherhood,” Annabeth rattled off. “You have rites of passage. Seven levels of membership. The pater is the top.”

The ghosts let out a collective gasp. Then they all began shouting at once.

“How does she know this?” one demanded.

“The girl has gleaned our secrets!”

“Silence!” the pater ordered.

“But she might know about the ordeals!” another cried.

_ What an idiot, _ Annabeth thought.  _ Some secret protectors they are. _

“Yes, the ordeals,” Annabeth nodded. “I do know about them.”

Another round of incredulous gasping.

“Ridiculous!” The pater yelled. “The girl lies! Daughter of Athena, choose your way of death. If you do not choose, the god will choose for you!”

“Fire or dagger,” Annabeth guessed.

Even the pater looked stunned. Apparently he hadn’t remembered there were victims of past punishments lying on the floor.

“How—how did you…?” He gulped. “Who are you?”

“I told you, I’m a child of Athena,” Annabeth said. “And in my sisterhood, I am the magna mater. There are no mysteries to me. Mithras cannot hide anything from my sight.”

“The magna mater!” a ghost wailed in despair. “The big mother!”

“Kill her!” One of the ghosts charged, his hands out to strangle her, but he passed right through her.

“You’re dead,” Annabeth reminded him. “Sit down.”

The ghost looked embarrassed and took his seat.

“We do not need to kill you ourselves,” the pater growled. “Mithras shall do that for us!”

The statue on the altar began to glow.

“It is no good,” Annabeth said. “I know all. You test your initiates with fire because the torch is the symbol of Mithras. His other symbol is the dagger, which is why you can also be tested with the blade. You want to kill me, just as Mithras killed the sacred bull.”

The ghosts wailed and covered their ears. Some slapped their faces as if to wake up from a bad dream.

“The big mother knows!” one said. “It is impossible!”

_ Unless you look around the room,  _ Annabeth thought.

She glared at the ghost who had just spoken. He had a raven badge on his toga—the same symbol as on the floor at her feet.

“You are just a raven,” she scolded. “That is the lowest rank. Be silent and let me speak to your pater.”

The ghost cringed. “Mercy! Mercy!”

At the front of the room, the pater trembled—either from rage or fear, Annabeth wasn’t sure which. His pope hat tilted sideways on his head like a gas gauge dropping toward empty. “Truly, you know much, big mother. Your wisdom is great, but that is all the more reason why you cannot leave. The weaver warned us you would come.”

“She warned you because she fears me,” Annabeth said. “She does not wish to meet me. But I will pass and I will find her.”

“You must choose an ordeal!” the pater insisted. “Fire or dagger! Survive one, and then, perhaps!”

Annabeth stared at the altar statue, which was glowing brighter by the second. She could feel its heat across the room. It would be a good anchor if she could get close enough to tie a rope around it without hurting herself.

“Neither torch nor dagger,” Annabeth said firmly. “There is a third test, which I will pass.”

“A third test?” the pater demanded.

“Mithras was born from rock,” Annabeth said. “He emerged fully grown from the stone, holding his dagger and torch.”

The screaming and wailing told her she had guessed correctly.

“The big mother knows all!” a ghost cried. “That is our most closely guarded secret!”

_ Then maybe you shouldn’t put a statue of it on your altar, _ Annabeth thought. But she was thankful for stupid male ghosts. If they’d let women warriors into their cult, they might have learned some common sense.

Annabeth gestured dramatically to the wall she’d come from. “I was born from stone, just as Mithras was! Therefore, I have already passed your ordeal!”

“Bah!” the pater spat. “You came from a hole in the wall! That’s not the same thing.”

Annabeth shrugged. “Well, alright. I can do something else. I have control over the stones.” She raised her arms. “I will prove my power is greater than Mithras. With a single strike, I will bring down this chamber.”

The ghosts wailed and trembled and looked at the ceiling, but Annabeth knew they didn’t see what she saw. These ghosts were warriors, not engineers. The children of Athena had many skills, and not just in combat. Annabeth had studied architecture for years. She knew this ancient chamber was on the verge of collapse. She recognized what the stress fractures in the ceiling meant, all emanating from a single point—the top of the stone arch just above her. The capstone was about to crumble, and when that happened, assuming she could time it correctly…

“Impossible!” the pater shouted. “The weaver has paid us much tribute to destroy any children of Athena who would dare enter our shrine. We have never let her down. We cannot let you pass.”

“Then you fear my power!” Annabeth said. “You admit that I could destroy your sacred chamber!”

The pater scowled. He straightened his hat uneasily. Annabeth knew she’d put him in an impossible position. He couldn’t back down without looking cowardly.

“Do your worst, child of Athena,” he decided. “No one can bring down the cavern of Mithras, especially with one strike. Especially not a girl!”

Annabeth cautiously moved towards the statue. She tied a loop around the base, not wanting to further offend the ghosts if she tied it like a noose around Mithras.

“What are you doing?” the pater snapped.

“Oh, it’s very important to create an anchor between me and something in the room I am in,” Annabeth lied. “Part of the process.” She hefted her dagger. “But now, I’m ready.” She gave them a wry smile. “Well, boys. Looks like you chose the wrong war god.”

She struck the capstone. The Celestial bronze blade shattered it like a sugar cube. For a moment, nothing happened.

“Ha!” the pater gloated. “You see? Athena has no power here!”

The room shook. A fissure ran across the length of the ceiling and the far end of the cavern collapsed, burying the altar and the pater. More cracks widened. Bricks fell from the arches. Ghosts screamed and ran, but they couldn’t seem to pass through the walls. Apparently they were bound to this chamber even in death.

Annabeth turned. She slammed against the blocked entrance with all her might, and the bricks gave way. As the cavern of Mithras imploded behind her, she lunged into darkness and found herself falling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's avoid the broken ankle this time?
> 
> Sorry this was a little later than I planned to post. I kinda... I saw this youTube video of the end, well not end end scene, but one of the ending scenes in Supernatural 15x18, so naturally I watched it, cried a little, and then immediately went to the CW app to watch the episode. Anyway, I'm not okay right now, that was not cool, man. Not cool at all. What kind of an ending was that? And it was so... ambiguous? Like I could interpret that in MANY, MANY ways. I mean, I'm going to pick this one specific way to interpret it because please let it be true, but also... please tell me you're joking and this is going to get fixed in the next episode.
> 
> Anyway, so here's the first two Annabeth chapters of this Annabeth chapter section.


	37. I Needed My Hands More Than I Needed My Ankle (Annabeth XXXVII)

ONE CRUCIAL THING ANNABETH HADN’T CONSIDERED? Rope burn.

She was able to catch herself on the rope, but not before sliding down a few feet. Her hands burned from the motion, but she refused to let go. Stifling her scream of pain, Annabeth eased herself down the rope, wincing every time her hands moved.

It took her awhile to reach the bottom and when she did, Annabeth sat down at the base of the rope. She took a few deep breaths, desperately trying to ignore the pain in her hands.

She looked around her. Her dagger had skittered a few feet away. In its dim light she could make out the features of the room. She was sitting on a cold floor of sandstone blocks. The ceiling was two stories tall. The doorway through which she’d fallen was ten feet off the ground, now completely blocked with debris that had cascaded into the room, making a rockslide. Scattered around her were old pieces of lumber—some cracked and desiccated, others broken into kindling. The lumber had probably once been a staircase, long ago collapsed.

“Okay,” she said aloud. “No broken ankles. That’s good.” She looked down at her hands. Her palms were red and raw and she thought she could see some blood in the dim lighting. She would have to fix that, but first…

She remembered a silly wilderness survival course Grover had taught her back at camp. At least it had seemed silly at the time. First step: Scan your surroundings for immediate threats.

This room didn’t seem to be in danger of collapsing. The rockslide had stopped. The walls were solid blocks of stone with no major cracks that she could see. The ceiling was not sagging. Good.

The only exit was on the far wall—an arched doorway that led into darkness. Between her and the doorway, a small brickwork trench cut across the floor, letting water flow through the room from left to right. Maybe plumbing from the Roman days? If the water was drinkable, that was good too.

Piled in one corner were some broken ceramic vases, spilling out shriveled brown clumps that might once have been fruit. Yuck. In another corner were some wooden crates that looked more intact, and some wicker boxes bound with leather straps.

“So, no immediate danger,” she said to herself. “Unless something comes barreling out of that dark tunnel.”

She glared at the doorway, almost daring her luck to get worse. Nothing happened.

“Okay,” she said. “Next step: Take inventory.”

What could she use? She had her water bottle, and more water in that trench if she could reach it. She had her knife. Her backpack was full of colorful string (whee), the mini projector with the Chinese finger-trap model, the bronze map, some matches, and some ambrosia and nectar for emergencies.

Annabeth carefully removed her backpack, trying as hard as she could to avoid her hands touching the straps. She gingerly used the tips of her fingers to open it and reach inside for the flash of nectar. Even that small movement was like smashing her hand against a porcupine.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Annabeth gasped as she poured the godly drink over her hands.

The burns and cuts started healing until they looked like days old wounds rather than minutes old. The pain dulled to a light throb, but she wasn’t completely healed. And that was very bad. She needed her hands for the coming trial.

Annabeth grabbed the baggie of ambrosia squares and ate one. As usual, it tasted like comforting memories. This time it was the muffins from the New Rome bakery. She remembered that. It had been just after she and Percy arrived in New Rome. They had just learned about Jason’s death and Percy, Frank, Hazel, and her had gone to the bakery to eat muffins and cry and laugh about Jason’s greatest hits.

Thinking about that now made her smile ruefully. That would be another memory that would never happen. Not if she had anything to say about it.

The ambrosia warmed her whole body. Suddenly, she felt really hot. It was dangerous eating that much godly food, but without a child of Apollo here to finish the healing process, she would have to do whatever it took to fix her hands.

It worked at least. Her hands were completely devoid of any rope burn when she looked down at them. Even if she was feeling feverish now, at least she wasn’t in pain anymore.

She stood up and grabbed her knife, wiping the sweat from her face. She drank half of the water in her water bottle and poured the rest over her head. It cooled the fever somewhat, but she was still thirsty and still hot.

She refilled her water bottle from the water in the gutter. The water was cold and moving swiftly—good signs that it might be safe to drink. She filled her bottle, then cupped some water in her hands and splashed her face. She felt much better. The gutter water was cooler than that water she’d poured on her face from her water bottle. She drank some more and refilled her bottle.

“Okay,” Annabeth said. “Keep moving.”

She raised her dagger and inspected the room again in its bronze light. Now that she was closer to the open doorway, she liked it even less. It led into a dark silent corridor. The air wafting out smelled sickly sweet and somehow evil. Unfortunately, Annabeth there wasn’t any other way she could go.

Above the open doorway, the Mark of Athena blazed to life against the arch.

The fiery owl seemed to be watching her expectantly, as if to say:  _ About time. Right this way! _

If she survived this, Annabeth was going to find whatever owl the mark was based on and punch it in the face.

That thought lifted her spirits. She made it across the trench and walked slowly into the corridor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dunno why I do this to myself. Rewatched that last SPN episode. Yay me. Whhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyy?
> 
> Gah, and I don't think my mom quite understood the "I love you" thing. Which is saddening because that's literally my ONLY ship in that fandom. Though I don't really squeal about my ships at home. That's mostly done to myself or in rambling author notes.
> 
> Realizing this is one of the aforementioned rambling notes... I am decently far into writing House of Hades. I was getting worried because I got stuck on like chapter twenty which is only ten days worth of posting, but since then I have gotten to thirty nine chapters and I'm on a roll again. It's really just the Tartarus chapters that keep tripping me up. Anyway, super excited for that because only ten more days of posting this story before I move on to the next one.
> 
> Like I said. Rambling note. And... next chapter.


	38. I Offer the Weaver a Deal (Annabeth XXXVIII)

AS ANNABETH WALKED THROUGH THE TUNNEL, the sickly sweet smell got stronger and set her nerves on edge. The sound of running water faded behind her. In its place came a dry chorus of whispers like a million tiny voices. They seemed to be coming from inside the walls, and they were getting louder.

Annabeth sped up, but the voices still followed her. She made her way down the corridor one step at a time. The whispering sounds got louder behind her until they sounded like millions of dried leaves swirling in the wind. Cobwebs filled the tunnel. Soon she was pushing them out of her face, ripping through gauzy curtains that covered her like Silly String.

Her heart wanted to break out of her chest and run. She stumbled ahead more recklessly.

Finally the corridor ended in a doorway filled waist-high with old lumber. It looked as if someone had tried to barricade the opening. That didn’t bode well, but Annabeth crawled over the pile, getting a few dozen splinters in her recently healed hands.

On the other side of the barricade was a chamber the size of a basketball court. The floor was done in Roman mosaics. The remains of tapestries hung from the walls. Two unlit torches sat in wall sconces on either side of the doorway, both covered in cobwebs.

At the far end of the room, the Mark of Athena burned over another doorway. Unfortunately, between Annabeth and that exit, the floor was bisected by a chasm fifty feet across. Spanning the pit were two parallel wooden beams, too far apart for both feet, but each too narrow to walk on unless Annabeth was an acrobat, which she wasn’t.

The corridor she’d come from was filled with hissing noises. Cobwebs trembled and danced as the first of the spiders appeared: no larger than gumdrops, but plump and black, skittering over the walls and the floor.

What kind of spiders? Annabeth had no idea. She only knew they were coming for her, and she only had seconds to get to work.

The first spiders were almost to the door. Behind them came the bulk of the army—a black sea of creepy-crawlies.

Annabeth rushed to one of the wall sconces and snatched up the torch. The end was coated in pitch for easy lighting. Her fingers felt like lead, but she rummaged through her backpack and found the matches. She struck one and set the torch ablaze.

She thrust it into the barricade. The old dry wood caught immediately. Flames leaped to the cobwebs and roared down the corridor in a flash fire, roasting spiders by the thousands.

Annabeth stepped back from her bonfire. She’d bought herself some time, but she doubted that she’d killed all the spiders. They would regroup and swarm again as soon as the fire died.

She stepped to the edge of the chasm.

Annabeth threw her flaming torch to the other side of the chasm. She pulled all the string out of her backpack and began weaving between the beams, stringing a cat’s cradle pattern back and forth from eye hook to eye hook, doubling and tripling the line.

Her hands moved with blazing speed. She stopped thinking about the task and just did it, looping and tying off lines, slowly extending her woven net over the pit.

She forgot the fiery barricade guttering out behind her. She inched over the chasm. The weaving held her weight. Before she knew it, she was halfway across.

She glanced behind her. The barricade fire was dying. A few spiders crawled in around the edges of the doorway.

Desperately she continued weaving, and finally she made it across. She snatched up the torch and thrust it into her woven bridge. Flames raced along the string. Even the beams caught fire as if they’d been pre-soaked in oil.

For a moment, the bridge burned in a clear pattern—a fiery row of identical owls. Had Annabeth really woven them into the string, or was it some kind of magic? She didn’t know, but as the spiders began to cross, the beams crumbled and collapsed into the pit.

The rest of the spiders didn’t follow. They massed at the edge of the pit—a seething black carpet of creepiness. Then they dispersed, flooding back into the burned corridor, almost as if Annabeth was no longer interesting.

Her torch sputtered out, leaving her with only the light of her dagger. She felt exhausted and out of tricks, but her mind was clear. Her panic seemed to have burned up along with that woven bridge.

“Almost there,” Annabeth whispered.

She made her way down the next corridor. She didn’t have far to go.

After twenty feet, the tunnel opened into a cavern as large as a cathedral, so majestic that Annabeth had trouble processing everything she saw. Bronze braziers of magical light, like the gods used on Mount Olympus, glowed around the circumference of the room, interspersed with gorgeous tapestries. The stone floor was webbed with fissures like a sheet of ice. The ceiling was so high, it was lost in the gloom and layers upon layers of spiderwebs.

Strands of silk as thick as pillars ran from the ceiling all over the room, anchoring the walls and the floor like the cables of a suspension bridge. Webs also surrounded the centerpiece of the shrine, which was so intimidating that Annabeth had trouble raising her eyes to look at it. Looming over her was a forty-foot-tall statue of Athena, with luminous ivory skin and a dress of gold. In her outstretched hand, Athena held a statue of Nike, the winged victory goddess—a statue that looked tiny from here, but was probably as tall as a real person.

Athena’s other hand rested on a shield as big as a billboard, with a sculpted snake peeking out from behind, as if Athena was protecting it.

The goddess’s face was serene and kindly… and it looked like Athena. Annabeth had seen many statues that didn’t resemble her mom at all, but this giant version, made thousands of years ago, made her think that the artist must have met Athena in person. He had captured her perfectly.

“I’m here,” she murmured. “I’m here.”

Annabeth shook herself out of her daze and focused on searching the room for Arachne. As she scanned the chamber, her eyes fell on a tapestry to her left.

She caught her breath. Originally, it would have been her and Percy’s underwater kiss, but now it showed the two of them kneeling under a great weight, arms raised. They shared the weight of the sky.

Above her in the gloom, a voice spoke. “For ages I have known that you would come, my sweet.”

Annabeth shuddered.

In the webs above the statue, something moved—something dark and large.

“I have seen you in my dreams,” the voice said, sickly sweet and evil, like the smell in the corridors. “I had to make sure you were worthy, the only child of Athena clever enough to pass my tests and reach this place alive. Indeed, you are her most talented child. This will make your death so much more painful to my old enemy when you fail utterly.”

“You’re Arachne,” Annabeth called. “The weaver who was turned into a spider.”

The figure descended, becoming clearer and more horrible. “Cursed by your mother,” she said. “Scorned by all and made into a hideous thing… because I was the better weaver.”

“You lost the contest,” Annabeth said.

“That’s the story written by the winner!” cried Arachne. “Look at my work! See for yourself!”

Annabeth knew Arachne was a talented weaver. That much was obvious. And maybe she was the better weaver, but that wasn’t the point.

“Yes, I see your work,” Annabeth said. “But that’s not why I’m here. I’m here to talk to you.”

Arachne appeared from the curtains of webbing with a surprised look on her… face. She had the body of a giant black widow, with a hairy red hourglass mark on the underside of her abdomen and a pair of oozing spinnerets. Her eight spindly legs were lined with curved barbs as big as Annabeth’s dagger. If the spider came any closer, her sweet stench alone would have been enough to make Annabeth faint. But the most horrible part was her misshapen face.

She might once have been a beautiful woman. Now black mandibles protruded from her mouth like tusks. Her other teeth had grown into thin white needles. Fine dark whiskers dotted her cheeks. Her eyes were large, lidless, and pure black, with two smaller eyes sticking out of her temples. It looked utterly strange with the look of surprise and confusion.

“You’re here to talk to me?” Arachne repeated.

“Yes,” Annabeth nodded. She fixed a wide, fake smile to her face. “How would you like to make a deal?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand I've been watching Once Upon a Time again, so I definitely read that last line in Rumple's voice.
> 
> Oooh look at that. Short and sweet.


	39. American Tourists Try to Kill Us (Leo XXXIX)

LEO WISHED HE WASN’T SO GOOD.

Really, sometimes it was just embarrassing. If he hadn’t had such an eye for mechanical stuff, they might never have found the secret chute, gotten lost in the underground, and been attacked by metal dudes. But he just couldn’t help himself.

Part of it was Hazel’s fault. For a girl with super underground senses, she wasn’t much good in Rome. She kept leading them around and around the city, getting dizzy, and doubling back.

“Sorry,” she said. “It’s just… there’s so much underground here, so many layers, it’s overwhelming. Like standing in the middle of an orchestra and trying to concentrate on a single instrument. I’m going deaf.”

As a result, they got a tour of Rome. Frank seemed happy to plod along like a big sheepdog (hmm, Leo wondered if he could turn into one of those, or even better: a horse that Leo could ride).

But Leo started to get impatient. His feet were sore, the day was sunny and hot, and the streets were choked with tourists.

The Forum was okay, but it was mostly ruins overgrown with bushes and trees. It took a lot of imagination to see it as the bustling center of Ancient Rome. Leo could only manage it because he’d seen New Rome in California.

They passed big churches, freestanding arches, clothing stores, and fast-food restaurants. One statue of some Ancient Roman dude seemed to be pointing to a nearby McDonald’s.

On the wider streets, the car traffic was absolutely nuts—man, Leo thought people in Houston drove crazy—but they spent most of their time weaving through small alleys, coming across fountains and little cafés where Leo was not allowed to rest.

“I never thought I’d get to see Rome,” Hazel said. “When I was alive, I mean the first time, Mussolini was in charge. We were at war.”

“Mussolini?” Leo frowned. “Wasn’t he like BFFs with Hitler?”

Hazel stared at him like he was an alien. “BFFs?”

“Never mind.”

“I’d love to see the Trevi Fountain,” she said.

“There’s a fountain on every block,” Leo grumbled.

“Or the Spanish Steps,” Hazel said.

“Why would you come to Italy to see Spanish steps?” Leo asked. “That’s like going to China for Mexican food, isn’t it?”

“You’re hopeless,” Hazel complained.

“So I’ve been told.”

She turned to Frank and grabbed his hand, as if Leo had ceased to exist. “Come on. I think we should go this way.”

Frank gave Leo a confused smile—like he couldn’t decide whether to gloat or to thank Leo for being a doofus—but he cheerfully let Hazel drag him along.

After walking forever, Hazel stopped in front of a church. At least, Leo assumed it was a church. The main section had a big domed roof. The entrance had a triangular roof, typical Roman columns, and an inscription across the top: M. AGRIPPA something or other.

“Latin for Get a grip?” Leo speculated.

“This is our best bet.” Hazel sounded more certain than she had all day. “There should be a secret passage somewhere inside.”

Tour groups milled around the steps. Guides held up colored placards with different numbers and lectured in dozens of languages like they were playing some kind of international bingo.

Leo listened to the Spanish tour guide for a few seconds, and then he reported to his friends, “This is the Pantheon. It was originally built by Marcus Agrippa as a temple to the gods. After it burned down, Emperor Hadrian rebuilt it, and it’s been standing for two thousand years. It’s one of the best-preserved Roman buildings in the world.”

Frank and Hazel stared at him.

“How did you know that?” Hazel asked.

“I’m naturally brilliant.”

“Centaur poop,” Frank said. “He eavesdropped on a tour group.”

Leo grinned. “Maybe. Come on. Let’s go find that secret passage. I hope this place has air conditioning.”

* * *

Of course, no AC.

On the bright side, there were no lines and no admission fee, so they just muscled their way past the tour groups and walked on in.

The interior was pretty impressive, considering it had been constructed two thousand years ago. The marble floor was patterned with squares and circles like a Roman tic-tac-toe game. The main space was one huge chamber with a circular rotunda, sort of like a capitol building back in the States. Lining the walls were different shrines and statues and tombs and stuff. But the real eye-catcher was the dome overhead. All the light in the building came from one circular opening right at the top. A beam of sunlight slanted into the rotunda and glowed on the floor, like Zeus was up there with a magnifying glass, trying to fry puny humans.

Leo was no architect like Annabeth, but he could appreciate the engineering. The Romans had made the dome out of big stone panels, but they’d hollowed out each panel in a square-within-square pattern. It looked cool. Leo figured it also made the dome lighter and easier to support.

He didn’t mention that to his friends. He doubted they would care, but if Annabeth were here, she would’ve spent the whole day talking about it. Thinking about that made Leo wonder how she was doing on her Mark of Athena expedition. Leo never thought he’d feel this way, but he was worried about that scary blond girl.

Hazel stopped in the middle of the room and turned in a circle. “This is amazing. In the old days, the children of Vulcan would come here in secret to consecrate demigod weapons. This is where Imperial gold was enchanted.”

Leo wondered how that worked. He imagined a bunch of demigods in dark robes trying to quietly roll a scorpion ballista through the front doors.

“But we’re not here because of that,” he guessed.

“No,” Hazel said. “There’s an entrance—a tunnel that will lead us toward Nico. I can sense it close by. I’m not sure where.”

Frank grunted. “If this building is two thousand years old, it makes sense there could be some kind of secret passage left over from the Roman days.”

That’s when Leo made his mistake of simply being too good.

He scanned the temple’s interior, thinking:  _ If I were designing a secret passage, where would I put it? _

He could sometimes figure out how a machine worked by putting his hand on it. He’d learned to fly a helicopter that way. He’d fixed Festus the dragon that way (before Festus crashed and burned). Once he’d even reprogrammed the electronic billboards in Times Square to read: ALL DA LADIES LUV LEO… accidentally, of course.

Now he tried to sense the workings of this ancient building. He turned toward a red marble altar- looking thing with a statue of the Virgin Mary on the top. “Over there,” he said.

He marched confidently to the shrine. It was shaped sort of like a fireplace, with an arched recess at the bottom. The mantel was inscribed with a name, like a tomb.

“The passage is around here,” he said. “This guy’s final resting place is in the way. Raphael somebody?”

“Famous painter, I think,” Hazel said.

Leo shrugged. He had a cousin named Raphael, and he didn’t think much of the name. He wondered if he could produce a stick of dynamite from his tool belt and do a little discreet demolition; but he figured the caretakers of this place probably wouldn’t approve.

“Hold on…” Leo looked around to make sure they weren’t being watched.

Most of the tour groups were gawking at the dome, but one trio made Leo uneasy. About fifty feet away, some overweight middle-aged dudes with American accents were conversing loudly, complaining to each other about the heat. They looked like manatees stuffed into beach clothes—sandals, walking shorts, touristy T-shirts and floppy hats. Their legs were big and pasty and covered with spider veins. The guys acted extremely bored, and Leo wondered why they were hanging around.

They weren’t watching him. Leo wasn’t sure why they made him nervous. Maybe he just didn’t like manatees.

_ Forget them, _ Leo told himself.

He slipped around the side of the tomb. He ran his hand down the back of a Roman column, all the way to the base. Right at the bottom, a series of lines had been etched into the marble—Roman numerals.

“Heh,” Leo said. “Not very elegant, but effective.”

“What is?” Frank asked.

“The combination for a lock.” He felt around the back of the column some more and discovered a square hole about the size of an electrical socket. “The lock face itself has been ripped out—probably vandalized sometime in the last few centuries. But I should be able to control the mechanism inside, if I can…”

Leo placed his hand on the marble floor. He could sense old bronze gears under the surface of the stone. Regular bronze would have corroded and become unusable long ago, but these were Celestial bronze—the handiwork of a demigod. With a little willpower, Leo urged them to move, using the Roman numerals to guide him. The cylinders turned— _ click, click, click. _ Then  _ click, click. _

On the floor next to the wall, one section of marble tile slid under another, revealing a dark square opening barely large enough to wiggle through.

“Romans must’ve been small.” Leo looked at Frank appraisingly. “You’ll need to change into something thinner to get through here.”

“That’s not nice!” Hazel chided.

“What? Just saying—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Frank mumbled. “We should go get the others before we explore. That’s what Piper said.”

“They’re halfway across the city,” Leo reminded him. “Besides, uh, I’m not sure I can close this hatch again. The gears are pretty old.”

“Great,” Frank said. “How do we know it’s safe down there?”

Hazel knelt. She put her hand over the opening as if checking the temperature. “There’s nothing alive… at least not for several hundred feet. The tunnel slants down, then levels out and goes south, more or less. I don’t sense any traps…”

“How can you tell all that?” Leo asked.

She shrugged. “Same way you can pick locks on marble columns, I guess. I’m glad you’re not into robbing banks.”

“Oh… bank vaults,” Leo said. “Never thought about that.”

“Forget I said anything.” Hazel sighed. “Look, it’s not three o’clock yet. We can at least do a little exploring, try to pinpoint Nico’s location before we contact the others. You two stay here until I call for you. I want to check things out, make sure the tunnel is structurally sound. I’ll be able to tell more once I’m underground.”

Frank scowled. “We can’t let you go by yourself. You could get hurt.”

“Frank, I can take care of myself,” she said. “Underground is my specialty. It’s safest for all of us if I go first.”

“Unless Frank wants to turn into a mole,” Leo suggested. “Or a prairie dog. Those things are awesome.”

“Shut up,” Frank mumbled.

“Or a badger.”

Frank jabbed a finger at Leo’s face. “Valdez, I swear—”

“Both of you, be quiet,” Hazel scolded. “I’ll be back soon. Give me ten minutes. If you don’t hear from me by then… Never mind. I’ll be fine. Just try not to kill each other while I’m down there.”

She dropped down the hole. Leo and Frank blocked her from view as best they could. They stood shoulder to shoulder, trying to look casual, like it was completely natural for two teenaged guys to hang around Raphael’s tomb.

Tour groups came and went. Most ignored Leo and Frank. A few people glanced at them apprehensively and kept walking. Maybe the tourists thought they would ask for tips. For some reason, Leo could unnerve people when he grinned.

The three American manatees were still hanging out in the middle of the room. One of them wore a T-shirt that said ROMA, as if he’d forget what city he was in if he didn’t wear it. Every once in a while, he would glance over at Leo and Frank like he found their presence distasteful. Something about that dude bothered Leo. He wished Hazel would hurry up.

“She talked to me earlier,” Frank said abruptly. “Hazel told me you figured out about my lifeline.”

Leo stirred. He’d almost forgotten Frank was standing next to him.

“Your lifeline… oh, the burning stick. Right.” Leo resisted the urge to set his hand ablaze and yell:  _ Bwah ha ha! _ The idea was sort of funny, but he wasn’t that cruel.

“Look, man,” he said. “It’s cool. I’d never do anything to put you in danger. We’re on the same team.”

Frank fiddled with his centurion badge. “I always knew fire could kill me, but since my grandmother’s mansion burned down in Vancouver… it seems a lot more real.”

Leo nodded. He felt sympathy for Frank, but the guy didn’t make it easy when he talked about his family mansion. Sort of like saying,  _ I crashed my Lamborghini, _ and waiting for people to say,  _ Oh, you poor baby! _

Of course Leo didn’t tell him that. “Your grandmother—did she die in that fire? You didn’t say.”

“I—I don’t know. She was sick, and pretty old. She said she would die in her own time, in her own way. But I think she made it out of the fire. I saw this bird flying up from the flames.”

Leo thought about that. “So your whole family has the shape-changing thing?”

“I guess,” Frank said. “My mom did. Grandmother thought that’s what got her killed in Afghanistan, in the war. Mom tried to help some of her buddies, and… I don’t know exactly what happened. There was a firebomb.”

Leo winced with sympathy. “So we both lost our moms to fire.”

He hadn’t been planning on it, but he told Frank the whole story of the night at the workshop when Gaea had appeared to him, and his mother had died.

Frank’s eyes got watery. “I never like it when people tell me, Sorry about your mom.”

“It never feels genuine,” Leo agreed.

“But I’m sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks.”

No sign of Hazel. The American tourists were still milling around the Pantheon. They seemed to be circling closer, like they were trying to sneak up on Raphael’s tomb without it noticing.

“Back at Camp Jupiter,” Frank said, “our cabin Lar, Reticulus, told me I have more power than most demigods, being a son of Mars, plus having the shape-changing ability from my mom’s side. He said that’s why my life is tied to a burning stick. It’s such a huge weakness that it kind of balances things out.”

Leo remembered his conversation with Nemesis, the revenge goddess, at the Great Salt Lake. She’d said something similar about wanting the scales to balance.  _ Good luck is a sham. True success requires sacrifice. _

Her fortune cookie was still in Leo’s tool belt, waiting to be opened.  _ Soon you will face a problem you cannot solve, though I could help you… for a price. _

Leo wished he could pluck that memory out of his head and shove it in his tool belt. It was taking up too much space. “We’ve all got weaknesses,” he said. “Me, for instance. I’m tragically funny and good-looking.”

Frank snorted. “You might have weaknesses. But your life doesn’t depend on a piece of firewood.”

“No,” Leo admitted. He started thinking: if Frank’s problem were his problem, how would he solve it? Almost every design flaw could be fixed. “I wonder…”

He looked across the room and faltered. The three American tourists were coming their way; no more circling or sneaking. They were making a straight line for Raphael’s tomb, and all three were glaring at Leo.

“Uh, Frank?” Leo asked. “Has it been ten minutes yet?”

Frank followed his gaze. The Americans’ faces were angry and confused, like they were sleepwalking through a very annoying nightmare.

“Leo Valdez,” called the guy in the ROMA shirt. His voice had changed. It was hollow and metallic. He spoke English as if it was a second language. “We meet again.”

All three tourists blinked, and their eyes turned solid gold.

Frank yelped. “Eidolons!”

The manatees clenched their beefy fists. Normally, Leo wouldn’t have worried about getting murdered by overweight guys in floppy hats, but he suspected the eidolons were dangerous even in those bodies, especially since the spirits wouldn’t care whether their hosts survived or not.

“They can’t fit down the hole,” Leo said.

“Right,” Frank said. “Underground is sounding really good.”

He turned into a snake and slithered over the edge. Leo jumped in after him while the spirits began to wail above, “Valdez! Kill Valdez!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only Leo would describe Hitler and Mussolini as "BFFs".


	40. The Eidolons Scored a 180 on the LSAT (Leo XL)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Background info if you don't know, the LSAT is the law school test and 180 is the highest you can score on it.

ONE PROBLEM SOLVED: the hatch above them closed automatically, cutting off their pursuers. It also cut off all light, but Leo and Frank could deal with that. Leo just hoped they didn’t need to get out the same way they came in. He wasn’t sure he could open the tile from underneath.

At least the possessed manatee dudes were on the other side. Over Leo’s head, the marble floor shuddered, like fat touristy feet were kicking it.

Frank must have turned back to human form. Leo could hear him wheezing in the dark.

“What now?” Frank asked.

“Okay, don’t freak,” Leo said. “I’m going to summon a little fire, just so we can see.”

“Thanks for the warning.”

Leo’s index finger blazed like a birthday candle. In front of them stretched a stone tunnel with a low ceiling. Just as Hazel had predicted, it slanted down, then leveled out and went south.

“Well,” Leo said. “It only goes in one direction.”

“Let’s find Hazel,” Frank said.

Leo had no argument with that suggestion. They made their way down the corridor, Leo going first with the fire. He was glad to have Frank at his back, big and strong and able to turn into scary animals in case those possessed tourists somehow broke through the hatch, squeezed inside, and followed them. He wondered if the eidolons might just leave those bodies behind, seep underground, and possess one of them instead.

_ Oh, there’s my happy thought for the day! _ Leo scolded himself.

After a hundred feet or so, they turned a corner and found Hazel. In the light of her golden cavalry sword, she was examining a door. She was so engrossed, she didn’t notice them until Leo said, “Hi.”

Hazel whirled, trying to swing her spatha. Fortunately for Leo’s face, the blade was too long to wield in the corridor.

“What are you doing here?” Hazel demanded.

Leo gulped. “Sorry. We ran into some angry tourists.” He told her what had happened.

She hissed in frustration. “I hate eidolons. I thought Piper made them promise to stay away.”

“Oh…” Frank said, like he’d just had his own daily happy thought. “Piper made them promise to stay off the ship and not possess any of us. But if they followed us, and used other bodies to attack us, then they’re not technically breaking their vow...”

“Great,” Leo muttered. “Eidolons who are also lawyers. Now I really want to kill them.”

“Okay, forget them for now,” Hazel said. “This door is giving me fits. Leo, can you try your skill with the lock?”

Leo cracked his knuckles. “Stand aside for the master, please.”

The door was interesting, much more complicated than the Roman numeral combination lock above. The entire door was coated in Imperial gold. A mechanical sphere about the size of a bowling ball was embedded in the center. The sphere was constructed from five concentric rings, each inscribed with zodiac symbols—the bull, the scorpion, et cetera—and seemingly random numbers and letters.

“These letters are Greek,” Leo said in surprise.

“Well, lots of Romans spoke Greek,” Hazel said.

“I guess,” Leo said. “But this workmanship...no offense to you Camp Jupiter types, but this is too complicated to be Roman.”

Frank snorted. “Whereas you Greeks just love making things complicated.”

“Hey,” Leo protested. “All I’m saying is this machinery is delicate, sophisticated. It reminds me of…” Leo stared at the sphere, trying to recall where he’d read or heard about a similar ancient machine. “It’s a more advanced sort of lock,” he decided. “You line up the symbols on the different rings in the right order, and that opens the door.”

“But what’s the right order?” Hazel asked.

“Good question. Greek spheres… astronomy, geometry…” Leo got a warm feeling inside. “Oh, no way. I wonder… What’s the value of pi?”

Frank frowned. “What kind of pie?”

“He means the number,” Hazel guessed. “I learned that in math class once, but—”

“It’s used to measure circles,” Leo said. “This sphere, if it’s made by the guy I’m thinking of…”

Hazel and Frank both stared at him blankly.

“Never mind,” Leo said. “I’m pretty sure pi is, uh, 3.1415 blah blah blah. The number goes on forever, but the sphere has only five rings, so that should be enough, if I’m right.”

“And if you’re not?” Frank asked.

“Well, then, Leo fall down, go boom. Let’s find out!”

He turned the rings, starting on the outside and moving in. He ignored the zodiac signs and letters, lining up the correct numbers so they made the value of pi. Nothing happened.

“I’m stupid,” Leo mumbled. “Pi would expand outward, because it’s infinite.”

He reversed the order of the numbers, starting in the center and working toward the edge. When he aligned the last ring, something inside the sphere clicked. The door swung open.

Leo beamed at his friends. “That, good people, is how we do things in Leo World. Come on in!”

“I hate Leo World,” Frank muttered.

Hazel laughed.

* * *

Inside was enough cool stuff to keep Leo busy for years. The room was about the size of the forge back at Camp Half-Blood, with bronze-topped worktables along the walls, and baskets full of ancient metalworking tools. Dozens of bronze and gold spheres like steampunk basketballs sat around in various stages of disassembly. Loose gears and wiring littered the floor. Thick metal cables ran from each table toward the back of the room, where there was an enclosed loft like a theater’s sound booth. Stairs led up to the booth on either side. All the cables seemed to run into it. Next to the stairs on the left, a row of cubbyholes was filled with leather cylinders—probably ancient scroll cases.

Leo was about to head toward the tables when he glanced to his left and nearly jumped out of his shoes. Flanking the doorway were two armored manikins—like skeletal scarecrows made from bronze pipes, outfitted with full suits of Roman armor, shield and sword.

“Dude.” Leo walked up to one. “These would be awesome if they worked.”

Frank edged away from the manikins. “Those things are going to come alive and attack us, aren’t they?”

Leo laughed. “Not a chance. They aren’t complete.” He tapped the nearest manikin’s neck, where loose copper wires sprouted from underneath its breastplate. “Look, the head’s wiring has been disconnected. And here, at the elbow, the pulley system for this joint is out of alignment. My guess? The Romans were trying to duplicate a Greek design, but they didn’t have the skill.”

Hazel arched her eyebrows. “The Romans weren’t good enough at being complicated, I suppose.”

“Or delicate,” Frank added. “Or sophisticated.”

“Hey, I just call it like I see it.” Leo jiggled the manikin’s head, making it nod like it was agreeing with him. “Still… a pretty impressive try. I’ve heard legends that the Romans confiscated the writings of Archimedes, but—”

“Archimedes?” Hazel looked baffled. “Wasn’t he an ancient mathematician or something?”

Leo laughed. “He was a lot more than that. He was only the most famous son of Hephaestus who ever lived.”

Frank scratched his ear. “I’ve heard his name before, but how can you be sure this manikin is his design?”

“It has to be!” Leo said. “Look, I’ve read all about Archimedes. He’s a hero to Cabin Nine. The dude was Greek, right? He lived in one of the Greek colonies in southern Italy, back before Rome got all huge and took over. Finally the Romans moved in and destroyed his city. The Roman general wanted to spare Archimedes, because he was so valuable—sort of like the Einstein of the ancient world—but some stupid Roman soldier killed him.”

“There you go again,” Hazel muttered. “Stupid and Roman don’t always go together, Leo.”

Frank grunted agreement. “How do you know all this, anyway?” he demanded. “Is there a Spanish tour guide around here?”

“No, man,” Leo said. “You can’t be a demigod who’s into building stuff and not know about Archimedes. The guy was seriously elite. He calculated the value of pi. He did all this math stuff we still use for engineering. He invented a hydraulic screw that could move water through pipes.”

Hazel scowled. “A hydraulic screw. Excuse me for not knowing about that awesome achievement.”

“He also built a death ray made of mirrors that could burn enemy ships,” Leo said. “Is that awesome enough for you?”

“I saw something about that on TV,” Frank admitted. “They proved it didn’t work.”

“Ah, that’s just because modern mortals don’t know how to use Celestial bronze,” Leo said. “That’s the key. Archimedes also invented a massive claw that could swing on a crane and pluck enemy ships out of the water.”

“Okay, that’s cool,” Frank admitted. “I love grabber-arm games.”

“Well, there you go,” Leo said. “Anyway, all his inventions weren’t enough. The Romans destroyed his city. Archimedes was killed. According to legends, the Roman general was a big fan of his work, so he raided Archimedes’s workshop and carted a bunch of souvenirs back to Rome. They disappeared from history, except…” Leo waved his hands at the stuff on the tables. “Here they are.”

“Metal basketballs?” Hazel asked.

Leo couldn’t believe that they didn’t appreciate what they were looking at, but he tried to contain his irritation. “Guys, Archimedes constructed spheres. The Romans couldn’t figure them out. They thought they were just for telling time or following constellations, because they were covered with pictures of stars and planets. But that’s like finding a rifle and thinking it’s a walking stick.”

“Leo, the Romans were top-notch engineers,” Hazel reminded him. “They built aqueducts, roads—”

“Siege weapons,” Frank added. “Public sanitation.”

“Yeah, fine,” Leo said. “But Archimedes was in a class by himself. His spheres could do all sorts of things, only nobody is sure…”

Suddenly Leo got an idea so incredible that his nose burst into flames. He patted it out as quickly as possible. Man, it was embarrassing when that happened.

He ran to the row of cubbyholes and examined the markings on the scroll cases. “Oh, gods. This is it!”

He gingerly lifted out one of the scrolls. He wasn’t great at Ancient Greek, but he could tell the inscription on the case read On Building Spheres.

“Guys, this is the lost book!” His hands were shaking. “Archimedes wrote this, describing his construction methods, but all the copies were lost in ancient times. If I can translate this…”

The possibilities were endless. For Leo, the quest had now totally taken on a new dimension. Leo had to get the spheres and scrolls safely out of here. He had to protect this stuff until he could get it back to Bunker 9 and study it.

“The secrets of Archimedes,” he murmured. “Guys, this is bigger than Daedalus’s laptop. If there’s a Roman attack on Camp Half-Blood, these secrets could save the camp. They might even give us an edge over Gaea and the giants!”

Hazel and Frank glanced at each other skeptically.

“Okay,” Hazel said. “We didn’t come here for a scroll, but I guess we can take it with us.”

“Assuming,” Frank added, “that you don’t mind sharing its secrets with us stupid uncomplicated Romans.”

“What?” Leo stared at him blankly. “No. Look, I didn’t mean to insult—Ah, never mind. The point is this is good news!”

For the first time in days, Leo felt really hopeful.

Naturally, that’s when everything went wrong.

On the table next to Hazel and Frank, one of the orbs clicked and whirred. A row of spindly legs extended from its equator. The orb stood, and two bronze cables shot out of the top, hitting Hazel and Frank like Taser wires. Leo’s friends both crumpled to the floor.

Leo lunged to help them, but the two armored manikins that couldn’t possibly move did move. They drew their swords and stepped toward Leo.

The one on the left turned its crooked helmet, which was shaped like a wolf’s head. Despite the fact that it had no face or mouth, a familiar hollow voice spoke from behind its visor.

_ “You cannot escape us, Leo Valdez,” _ it said.  _ “We do not like possessing machines, but they are better than tourists. You will not leave here alive.” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everything always goes wrong for demigods when things are just starting to look up.


	41. I Delay My Death (Leo XLI)

LEO AGREED WITH NEMESIS ABOUT ONE THING: good luck was a sham. At least when it came to Leo’s luck.

Last winter he had watched in horror while a family of Cyclopes prepared to roast Jason and Piper with hot sauce. He’d schemed his way out of that one and saved his friends all by himself, but at least he’d had time to think.

Now, not so much. Hazel and Frank had been knocked out by the tendrils of a possessed steampunk bowling ball. Two suits of armor with bad attitudes were about to kill him. Leo couldn’t blast them with fire. Suits of armor wouldn’t be hurt by that. Besides, Hazel and Frank were too close. He didn’t want to burn them, or accidentally hit the piece of firewood that controlled Frank’s life.

On Leo’s right, the suit of armor with a lion’s head helmet creaked its wiry neck and regarded Hazel and Frank, who were still lying unconscious.

_ “A male and female demigod,” _ said Lion Head.  _ “These will do, if the others die.” _ It's hollow face mask turned back to Leo.  _ “We do not need you, Leo Valdez.” _

“Oh, hey!” Leo tried for a winning smile. “You always need Leo Valdez!”

He spread his hands and hoped he looked confident and useful, not desperate and terrified. He wondered if it was too late to write TEAM LEO on his shirt.

Sadly, the suits of armor were not as easily swayed as the Narcissus Fan Club had been.

The one with the wolf-headed helmet snarled,  _ “I have been in your mind, Leo. I helped you start the war.” _

Leo’s smile crumbled. He took a step back. “That was you?”

Now he understood why those tourists had bothered him right away, and why this thing’s voice sounded so familiar. He’d heard it in his mind.

“You made me fire the ballista?” Leo demanded. “You call that helping?”

_ “I know how you think,” _ said Wolf Head.  _ “I know your limits. You are small and alone. You need friends to protect you. Without them, you are unable to withstand me. I vowed not to possess you again, but I can still kill you.” _

The armored dudes stepped forward. The points of their swords hovered a few inches from Leo’s face.

Leo’s fear suddenly made way for a whole lot of anger. This eidolon in the wolf helmet had shamed him, controlled him, and made him attack New Rome. It had endangered his friends and botched their quest.

Leo glanced at the dormant spheres on the worktables. He considered his tool belt. He thought about the loft behind him—the area that looked like a sound booth. Presto: Operation Junk Pile was born.

“First: you don’t know me,” he told Wolf Head. “And second: Bye.”

He lunged for the stairs and bounded to the top. The suits of armor were scary, but they were not fast. As Leo suspected, the loft had doors on either side—folding metal gates. The operators would’ve wanted protection in case their creations went haywire… like now. Leo slammed both gates shut and summoned fire to his hands, fusing the locks.

The suits of armor closed in on either side. They rattled the gates, hacking at them with their swords.

_ “This is foolish,” _ said Lion Head.  _ “You only delay your death.” _

“Delaying death is one of my favorite hobbies.” Leo scanned his new home. Overlooking the workshop was a single table like a control board. It was crowded with junk, but most of it Leo dismissed immediately: a diagram for a human catapult that would never work; a strange black sword (Leo was no good with swords); a large bronze mirror (Leo’s reflection looked terrible); and a set of tools that someone had broken, either in frustration or clumsiness.

He focused on the main project. In the center of the table, someone had disassembled an Archimedes sphere. Gears, springs, levers, and rods were littered around it. All the bronze cables to the room below were connected to a metal plate under the sphere. Leo could sense the Celestial bronze running through the workshop like arteries from a heart—ready to conduct magical energy from this spot.

“One basketball to rule them all,” Leo muttered.

This sphere was a master regulator. He was standing at Ancient Roman mission control.

_ “Leo Valdez!” _ the spirit howled. _ “Open this gate or I will kill you!” _

“A fair and generous offer!” Leo said, his eyes still on the sphere. “Just let me finish this. A last request, all right?”

That must have confused the spirits, because they momentarily stopped hacking at the bars.

Leo’s hands flew over the sphere, reassembling its missing pieces. Why did the stupid Romans have to take apart such a beautiful machine? They had killed Archimedes, stolen his stuff, then messed with a piece of equipment they could never understand. On the other hand, at least they’d had the sense to lock it away for two thousand years so that Leo could retrieve it.

The eidolons started pounding on the gates again.

“Who is it?” Leo called.

_ “Valdez!” _ Wolf Head bellowed.

“Valdez who?” Leo asked.

Eventually the eidolons would realize they couldn’t get in. Then, if Wolf Head truly knew Leo’s mind, he would decide there were other ways to force his cooperation. Leo had to work faster. He connected the gears, got one wrong, and had to start again. Hephaestus’s Hand Grenades, this was hard!

Finally he got the last spring in place. The ham-fisted Romans had almost ruined the tension adjuster, but Leo pulled a set of watchmaker’s tools from his belt and did some final calibrations. Archimedes was a genius—assuming this thing actually worked.

He wound the starter coil. The gears began to turn. Leo closed the top of the sphere and studied its concentric circles—similar to the ones on the workshop door.

_ “Valdez!” _ Wolf Head pounded on the gate.  _ “Our third comrade will kill your friends!” _

Leo cursed under his breath. Our third comrade. He glanced down at the spindly-legged Taser ball that had knocked out Hazel and Frank. He had figured eidolon number three was hiding inside that thing. But Leo still had to deduce the right sequence to activate this control sphere.

“Yeah, okay,” he called. “You got me. Just… just a sec.”

_ “No more seconds!” _ Wolf Head shouted.  _ “Open this gate now, or they die.” _

The possessed Taser ball lashed out with its tendrils and sent another shock through Hazel and Frank. Their unconscious bodies flinched. That kind of electricity might have stopped their hearts.

Leo held back tears. This was too hard. He couldn’t do it.

He stared at the face of the sphere—seven rings, each one covered with tiny Greek letters, numbers, and zodiac signs. The answer wouldn’t be pi. Archimedes would never do the same thing twice. Besides, just by putting his hand on the sphere Leo could feel that the sequence had been generated randomly. It was something only Archimedes would know.

Supposedly, Archimedes’s last words had been:  _ Don’t disturb my circles. _

No one knew what that meant, but Leo could apply it to this sphere. The lock was much too complicated. Maybe if Leo had a few years, he could decipher the markings and figure out the right combination, but he didn’t even have a few seconds.

He was out of time. Out of luck. And his friends were going to die.

_ A problem you cannot solve, _ said a voice in his mind.

Nemesis… she’d told him to expect this moment. Leo thrust his hand in his pocket and brought out the fortune cookie. The goddess had warned him of a great price for her help—as great as losing an eye. But if he didn’t try, his friends would die.

“I need the access code for this sphere,” he said.

He broke open the cookie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bum bum bum!
> 
> Okay, one thing I've never been clear on. The price Leo pays for opening the cookie. Is it Percy and Annabeth falling like Leo thinks, or is it his death fighting Gaea? Nemesis talks about Ethan and how he gave an eye for the ability to make a difference in the world which was getting the fair treatment for children of the gods. She tells Leo that in his case another sacrifice would do, but that it would be something just as painful.
> 
> Now, is it kind of making him seem selfish by saying his own death hurts as much as losing an eye over losing his friends to hell? Yes. A little. But when Festus revives Leo at the end of BoO, Leo makes a point to observe how much dying hurt. Why would Rick choose to include that detail when he could have picked any number of way to describe how dying felt? Not to mention, Leo broke open the cookie to save his friends. Why did Leo sacrifice himself? To save his friends.
> 
> So I've never been able to figure it out because I feel like there's evidence that Leo's death was the price. I'd like to hear some of your opinions and takes on this.


	42. Welcome to Leo World (Leo XLII)

LEO UNFURLED THE LITTLE STRIP OF PAPER. IT READ:

_ THAT’S YOUR REQUEST? SERIOUSLY? (OVER) _

On the back, the paper said:

_ YOUR LUCKY NUMBERS ARE: TWELVE, JUPITER, ORION, DELTA, THREE, THETA, OMEGA. (WREAK VENGEANCE UPON GAEA, LEO VALDEZ.) _

With trembling fingers, Leo turned the rings.

Outside the gates, Wolf Head growled in frustration.  _ “If friends do not matter to you, perhaps you need more incentive. Perhaps I should destroy these scrolls instead—priceless works by Archimedes!” _

The last ring clicked into place. The sphere hummed with power. Leo ran his hands along the surface, sensing tiny buttons and levers awaiting his commands. Magical and electrical pulses coursed via the Celestial bronze cables, and surged through the entire room.

Leo had never played a musical instrument, but he imagined it must be like this—knowing each key or note so well that you didn’t really think about what your hands were doing. You just concentrated on the kind of sound you wanted to create.

He started small. He focused on one reasonably intact gold sphere down in the main room. The gold sphere shuddered. It grew a tripod of legs and clattered over to the Tazer ball. A tiny circular saw popped out of the gold sphere’s head, and it began cutting into Taser ball’s brain.

Leo tried to activate another orb. This one burst in a small mushroom cloud of bronze dust and smoke.

“Oops,” he muttered. “Sorry, Archimedes.”

_ “What are you doing?” _ Wolf Head demanded. _ “Stop your foolishness and surrender!” _

“Oh, yes, I surrender!” Leo said. “I’m totally surrendering!”

He tried to take control of a third orb. That one broke too. Leo felt bad about ruining all these ancient inventions, but this was life or death. Frank had accused him of caring more for machines than people, but if it came down to saving old spheres or his friends, there was no choice.

The fourth try went better. A ruby-encrusted orb popped its top and helicopter blades unfolded. Leo was glad Buford the table wasn’t here—he would’ve fallen in love. The ruby orb spun into the air and sailed straight for the cubbyholes. Thin golden arms extended from its middle and snapped up the precious scroll cases.

_ “Enough!” _ Wolf Head yelled.  _ “I will destroy the—” _

He turned in time to see the ruby sphere take off with the scrolls. It zipped across the room and hovered in the far corner.

_ “What?!” _ Wolf Head cried. _ “Kill the prisoners!” _

He must have been talking to the Tazer ball. Unfortunately, the Tazer ball was in no shape to comply. Leo’s gold sphere was sitting on top of its sawed-open head, picking through its gears and wires like it was scooping out a pumpkin.

Thank the gods, Hazel and Frank began to stir.

_ “Bah!” _ Wolf Head gestured to Lion Head at the opposite gate. _ “Come! We will destroy the demigods ourselves.” _

“I don’t think so, guys.” Leo turned toward Lion Head. His hands worked the control sphere, and he felt a shock travel through the floor.

Lion Head shuddered and lowered his sword.

Leo grinned. “You’re in Leo World, now.”

Lion Head turned and stormed down the stairs. Instead of advancing on Hazel and Leo, he marched up the opposite stairs and faced his comrade.

_ “What are you doing?” _ Wolf Head demanded.  _ “We have to—” _

_ BLONG! _

Lion Head slammed his shield into Wolf Head’s chest. He smashed the pommel of his sword into his comrade’s helmet, so Wolf Head became Flat, Deformed, Not Very Happy Wolf Head.

_ “Stop that!”  _ Wolf Head demanded.

_ “I cannot!” _ Lion Head wailed.

Leo was getting the hang of it now. He commanded both suits of armor to drop their swords and shields and slap each other repeatedly.

_ “Valdez!” _ called Wolf Head in a warbling voice.  _ “You will die for this!” _

“Yeah,” Leo called out. “Who’s possessing who now, Casper?”

The machine men tumbled down the stairs, and Leo forced them to jitterbug like 1920s flappers. Their joints began smoking. The other spheres around the room began to pop. Too much energy was surging through the ancient system. The control sphere in Leo’s hand grew uncomfortably warm.

“Frank, Hazel!” Leo shouted. “Take cover!”

His friends were still dazed, staring in amazement at the jitterbugging metal guys, but they got his warning. Frank pulled Hazel under the nearest table and shielded her with his body.

One last twist of the sphere, and Leo sent a massive jolt through the system. The armored warriors blew apart. Rods, pistons, and bronze shards flew everywhere. On all the tables, spheres popped like hot soda cans. Leo’s gold sphere froze. His flying ruby orb dropped to the floor with the scroll cases.

The room was suddenly quiet except for a few random sparks and sizzles. The air smelled like burning car engines. Leo raced down the stairs and found Frank and Hazel safe under their table. He had never been so happy to see those two hugging.

“You’re alive!” he said.

Hazel’s left eye twitched, maybe from the Taser shock. Otherwise she looked okay. “Uh, what exactly happened?”

“Archimedes came through!” Leo said. “Just enough power left in those old machines for one final show. Once I had the access code, it was easy.”

He patted the control sphere, which was steaming in a bad way. Leo didn’t know if it could be fixed, but at the moment he was too relieved to care.

“The eidolons,” Frank said. “Are they gone?”

Leo grinned. “My last command overloaded their kill switches—basically locked down all their circuits and melted their cores.”

“In English?” Frank asked.

“I trapped the eidolons inside the wiring,” Leo said. “Then I melted them. They won’t be bothering anyone again.”

Leo helped his friends to their feet.

“You saved us,” Frank said.

“Don’t sound so surprised.” Leo glanced around the destroyed workshop. “Too bad all this stuff got wrecked, but at least I salvaged the scrolls. If I can get them back to Camp Half-Blood, maybe I can learn how to recreate Archimedes’s inventions.”

Hazel rubbed the side of her head. “But I don’t understand. Where is Nico? That tunnel was supposed to lead us to Nico.”

Leo had almost forgotten why they’d come down here in the first place. Nico obviously wasn’t here. The place was a dead end. So why…?

“Oh.” He felt like there was a buzz-saw sphere on his own head, pulling out his wires and gears. “Hazel, how exactly were you tracking Nico? I mean, could you just sense him nearby because he was your brother?”

She frowned, still looking a bit wobbly from her electric shock treatment. “Not—not totally. Sometimes I can tell when he’s close, but, like I said, Rome is so confusing, so much interference because of all the tunnels and caves—”

“You tracked him with your metal-finding senses,” Leo guessed. “His sword?”

She blinked. “How did you know?”

“You’d better come here.” He led Hazel and Frank up to the control room and pointed to the black sword.

“Oh. Oh, no.” Hazel would’ve collapsed if Frank hadn’t caught her. “But that’s impossible! Nico’s sword was with him in the bronze jar. Percy saw it in his dream!”

“Either the dream was wrong,” Leo said, “or the giants moved the sword here as a decoy.”

“So this was a trap,” Frank said. “We were lured here.”

“But why?” Hazel cried. “Where’s my brother?”

A hissing sound filled the control booth. At first, Leo thought the eidolons were back. Then he realized the bronze mirror on the table was steaming.

_ Ah, my poor demigods. _ The sleeping face of Gaea appeared in the mirror. As usual, she spoke without moving her mouth, which could only have been creepier if she’d had a ventriloquism puppet.

Leo hated those things.

_ You had your choice,  _ Gaea said. Her voice echoed through the room. It seemed to be coming not just from the mirror, but from the stone walls as well.

Leo realized she was all around them. Of course. They were  _ in  _ the earth. They’d gone to all the trouble of building the _ Argo II _ so they could travel by sea and air, and they’d ended up in the earth anyway.

_ I offered salvation to all of you,  _ Gaea said.  _ You could have turned back. Now it is too late. You’ve come to the ancient lands where I am strongest—where I will wake. _

Leo pulled a hammer from his tool belt. He whacked the mirror. Being metal, it just quivered like a tea tray, but it felt good to smash Gaea in the nose.

“In case you haven’t noticed, Dirt Face,” he said, “your little ambush failed. Your three eidolons got melted in bronze, and we’re fine.”

Gaea laughed softly.  _ Oh, my sweet Leo. You three have been separated from your friends. That was the whole point. _

The workshop door slammed shut.

_ You are trapped in my embrace, _ Gaea said.  _ Meanwhile, Annabeth Chase faces her death alone, terrified and crippled, at the hands of her mother’s greatest enemy. _

The image in the mirror changed. Leo saw Annabeth staring up with a pale face. Her bronze knife was in her hand like she was ready to attack. Leo couldn’t see what she was looking at, but it was obviously something horrible. He wanted to believe the image was a lie, but he had a bad feeling it was real, and it was happening right now.

_ The others, _ Gaea said,  _ The Vanir spawn Magnus Chase along with Jason Grace, Piper McLean, and my dear friend Percy Jackson—they will perish within minutes. _

The scene changed again. Percy was holding Riptide, leading Magnus, Jason, and Piper down a spiral staircase into the darkness.

_ Their powers will betray them, _ Gaea said.  _ They will die in their own elements. I almost hoped they would survive. They would have made a better sacrifice. But alas, Hazel and Frank, you will have to do. My minions will collect you shortly and bring you to the ancient place. Your blood will awaken me at last. Until then, I will allow you to watch your friends perish. Please… enjoy this last glimpse of your failed quest. _

Leo couldn’t stand it. His hand glowed white hot. Hazel and Frank scrambled back as he pressed his palm against the mirror and melted it into a puddle of bronze goo.

The voice of Gaea went silent. Leo could only hear the roar of blood in his ears. He took a shaky breath.

“Sorry,” he told his friends. “She was getting annoying.”

“What do we do?” Frank asked. “We have to get out and help the others.”

Leo scanned the workshop, now littered with smoking pieces of broken spheres. His friends still needed him. This was still his show. As long as he had his tool belt, Leo Valdez wasn’t going to sit around helplessly watching the Demigod Death Channel.

“I’ve got an idea,” he said. “But it’s going to take all three of us.”

He started telling them the plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, there's some inconsistencies with Tazer and Taser. I just put what my autocorrect told me to put because I was tired of seeing red and green squiggly lines. I think it's something to do with the way the word is being used, but I dunno.


	43. Jack Sings Happy Birthday (Piper XLIII)

PIPER TRIED TO MAKE THE BEST OF THE SITUATION.

Once they had gotten tired of pacing the deck, listening to Coach Hedge sing “Old MacDonald” (with weapons instead of animals), Piper suggested a picnic in the park.

Hedge grudgingly agreed. “Stay where I can see you.”

“What are we, kids?” Jason asked.

Hedge snorted. “Kids are baby goats. They’re cute, and they have redeeming social value. You are definitely not kids.”

They spread their blanket under a willow tree next to a pond. Piper turned over her cornucopia and spilled out an entire meal—neatly wrapped sandwiches, canned drinks, fresh fruit, and (for some reason) a birthday cake with purple icing and candles already lit.

She frowned. “Is it someone’s birthday?”

Jason winced. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Jason!”

“There’s too much going on,” he said. “And honestly… before last month, I didn’t even know when my birthday was. Thalia told me the last time she was at camp.”

Piper wondered what that would be like—not even knowing the day you were born. Jason had been given to Lupa the wolf when he was only two years old. He’d never really known his mortal mom. He’d only been reunited with his sister last winter.

“Dude!” Alex said. “Happy, like, last sixteen birthdays.” She neatly and terrifyingly used her garrote to cut Jason a large piece of cake. Piper wasn’t sure how sanitary that was, but she raised a can of a red, fruit punch seeming beverage.

“July First,” Piper said. “The Kalends of July.”

“Yeah.” Jason smirked. “The Romans would find that auspicious—the first day of the month named for Julius Caesar. Juno’s sacred day. Yippee.”

“Oh, Juno,” Magnus scowled.

“Why doesn’t she like you two?” Piper asked. “Is it just because you’re Norse?”

Alex stabbed a strawberry. “We don’t fit her perfect family. Well, Magnus and Annabeth don’t. A Norse and a Greek as cousins? No way.”

“She’s like that,” Magnus said. “She likes family, but it’s the  _ perfect _ family she likes. You know, the quote unquote  _ apple-pie life _ or whatever. Two and a half kids and a white picket fence. To be honest, probably mom and dad.”

“I get the feeling Hera’s the kind of person to  _ say _ they aren’t homophobic," Alex said, "but she actually is.”

Magnus looked at her. “Annabeth told you that.”

“Yeah, and she’s right.” Alex looked at Jason. “Anyway. Sweet sixteen, yeah?”

He nodded. “Oh, boy. I can get my driver’s license.”

Piper laughed. Jason had killed so many monsters and saved the world so many times that the idea of him sweating a driving test seemed ridiculous. She pictured him behind the wheel of some old Lincoln with a STUDENT DRIVER sign on top and a grumpy teacher in the passenger seat with an emergency brake pedal.

“Well?” she urged. “Blow out the candles.”

“Wait!” Magnus said. He pulled his pendant and Jack sprung out. “Jack has something to, uh, say.”

The sword launched into a chorus of “Happy Birthday”. Alex joined in with a laugh and Piper soon followed. Magnus rolled his eyes before singing along.

“Haaaaappy birthdaaaaaay toooooo yoooooou!”

Jason’s face was red, but he was smiling. He blew out the candles on the cake.

Piper wondered if he’d made a wish—hopefully that he and the rest of the Seven would survive this quest. She decided not to ask him. She didn’t want to jinx that wish.

Since they’d left the Pillars of Hercules yesterday evening, Jason had seemed distracted. Piper couldn’t blame him. Hercules had been a pretty huge disappointment as a big brother, and the old river god Achelous had said some unflattering things about the sons of Jupiter.

Piper stared at the cornucopia. She wondered if Achelous was getting used to having no horns at all. She hoped so. Sure, he had tried to kill them, but Piper still felt bad for the old god. She didn’t understand how such a lonely, depressed spirit could produce a horn of plenty that shot out pineapples and birthday cakes. Could it be that the cornucopia had drained all the goodness out of him? Maybe now that the horn was gone, Achelous would be able to fill up with some happiness and keep it for himself.

She also kept thinking about Achelous’s advice: _ If you had made it to Rome, the story of the flood would have served you better. _ She knew the story he was talking about. She just didn’t understand how it would help.

_ Jason’s face was pale. He seemed to be having trouble holding his sword. Percy was drenched and shivering. His hair didn’t look quite so dark, as if the color was leaching out. _

_ “They’re taking our power,” Piper said. “Draining us.” _

_ “Jason,” Percy coughed, “do the lightning.” _

_ Jason raised his sword. The room rumbled, but no lightning appeared. The roof didn’t break. Instead, a miniature rainstorm formed at the top of the chamber. Rain poured down, filling the fountain even faster, but it wasn’t normal rain. The stuff was just as dark as the water in the pool. _

_ “Not what I wanted,” Jason said. _

Piper blinked. Those memories again. Could they even be called memories if Piper didn’t actually remember them?

Alex started to fling frosting and cake at Magnus which resulted in the blonde boy attempting to get her back, but Alex just laughed and caught each glob of cake in her mouth.

While they were busy, Jason plucked an extinguished candle from his cake. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About?” Piper asked.

“Camp Jupiter,” he said. “All the years I trained there. We were always pushing teamwork, working as a unit. I thought I understood what that meant. But honestly? I was always the leader. Even when I was younger—”

“The son of Jupiter,” Piper said. “Most powerful kid in the legion. You were the star.”

Jason looked uncomfortable, but he didn’t deny it. “Being in this crew of seven… I’m not sure what to do. I’m not used to being one of so many, well, equals. I feel like I’m failing.”

Piper gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re not failing.”

“It sure felt that way when Chrysaor attacked,” Jason said. “I’ve spent most of this trip knocked out and helpless.”

“Come on,” she chided. “Being a hero doesn’t mean you’re invincible. It just means that you’re brave enough to stand up and do what’s needed.”

“And if I don’t know what’s needed?”

“That’s what your friends are for. We’ve all got different strengths. Together, we’ll figure it out.”

Jason didn’t look like he believed Piper, but he didn’t look like he  _ didn’t _ believe her either. She would take that win.

“Hercules was a jerk,” Jason said. “I never want to be like that. But I wouldn’t have had the courage to stand up to him without you taking the lead. You were the hero that time.”

“We can take turns,” she suggested.

“You’re a good friend, Piper,” Jason said.

That line didn’t hurt as much as she thought. Before, if Jason had said that, called her friend, Piper probably would have given him a small smile while crying on the inside. Now though, she was okay with being friends.

“I know I am,” Piper grinned. “Now, about that cake—”

Her voice faltered. Percy Jackson was running toward them, and Piper could tell from his expression that he brought bad news.

* * *

They gathered on deck so that Coach Hedge could hear the story. When Percy was done, Piper still couldn’t believe it.

“So Annabeth is on her quest and Nico’s running out of time,” Piper summed up.

“Yeah,” Percy said. He looked around. “Hazel and the guys aren’t back yet?”

Piper checked the time on the helm control. She hadn’t realized how late it was getting. “It’s two in the afternoon. We said three o’clock for a rendezvous.”

“At the latest,” Jason said.

Percy pointed at Piper’s dagger. “Tiberinus said you could find Nico’s location… you know, with that.”

Piper bit her lip. The last thing she wanted to do was check Katoptris for more terrifying images. “I’ve tried,” she said. “The dagger doesn’t always show what I want to see. In fact, it hardly ever does.”

“If it helps us find Nico, we have to try,” Alex said.

“Please,” Percy said. His sea-green eyes pleaded with Piper like a cute baby seal. Piper wondered how Annabeth ever won an argument with this guy.

“Fine,” she sighed, and drew her dagger.

“While you’re at it,” said Coach Hedge, “see if you can get the latest baseball scores. Italians don’t cover baseball worth beans.”

“Shh.” Piper studied the bronze blade. The light shimmered. She saw a loft apartment filled with Roman demigods. A dozen of them stood around a dining table as Octavian talked and pointed to a big map. Reyna paced next to the windows, gazing down at Central Park.

“That’s not good,” Jason muttered. “They’ve already set up a forward base in Manhattan.”

“And that map shows Long Island,” Percy said.

“They’re scouting the territory,” Jason guessed. “Discussing invasion routes.”

Piper did not want to see that. She concentrated harder. Light rippled across the blade. She saw ruins—a few crumbling walls, a single column, a stone floor covered with moss and dead vines—all clustered on a grassy hillside dotted with pine trees.

“I was just there,” Percy said. “That’s in the old Forum.”

The view zoomed in. On one side of the stone floor, a set of stairs had been excavated, leading down to a modern iron gate with a padlock. The blade’s image zoomed straight through the doorway, down a spiral stairwell, and into a dark, cylindrical chamber like the inside of a grain silo.

Piper dropped the blade.

“What’s wrong?” Jason asked. “It was showing us something.”

Piper felt like the boat was back on the ocean, rocking under her feet. “We can’t go there.”

Percy frowned. “Piper, Nico is dying. We’ve got to find him. Not to mention, Rome is about to get destroyed.”

Her voice wouldn’t work. She’d kept that vision of the circular room to herself for so long, now she found it impossible to talk about. She had a horrible feeling that explaining it to Percy and Jason wouldn’t change anything. She couldn’t stop what was about to happen.

She picked up the knife again. Its hilt seemed colder than usual.

She forced herself to look at the blade. She saw two giants in gladiator armor sitting on oversized praetors’ chairs. The giants toasted each other with golden goblets as if they’d just won an important fight. Between them stood a large bronze jar.

The vision zoomed in again. Inside the jar, Nico di Angelo was curled in a ball, no longer moving, all the pomegranate seeds eaten.

Magnus cursed. “We’re too late.”

“No,” Percy said firmly. “We aren’t. Just because there aren’t any more seeds to eat, doesn’t mean he’s dead. It’s the last day, so the last seed. We just need to hurry and rescue him.”

The blade’s surface went dark. Piper slipped it back into its sheath, trying to keep her hands from shaking. She hoped that Percy was right and Nico was still alive. On the other hand, she didn’t see how that image connected with the vision of the drowning room. Maybe the giants were toasting each other because she and Magnus, Percy, and Jason were dead.

“We should wait for the others,” she said. “Hazel, Frank, and Leo should be back soon.”

“We can’t wait,” Percy insisted.

Coach Hedge grunted. “It’s just two giants. If you guys want, I can take them.”

“Uh, Coach,” Jason said, “that’s a great offer, but we need you to man the ship—or goat the ship. Whatever.”

Hedge scowled. “And let you five have all the fun?”

“Actually, I’ll stay back with you, Coach,” Alex said. “Besides, someone has to be here when the others get back.”

“Yeah,” Jason said. “You can tell them where we’ve gone and bring the ship around to meet us at the Forum.”

“And here.” Piper unstrapped Katoptris and put it in Coach Hedge’s hands.

The satyr’s eyes widened. A demigod was never supposed to leave her weapon behind, but Piper was fed up with evil visions. She’d rather face her death without any more previews.

“Keep an eye on us with the blade,” she suggested. “And you can check the baseball scores.”

That sealed the deal. Hedge nodded grimly, prepared to do his part for the quest.

“All right,” he said. “But if any giants come this way—”

“Feel free to blast them,” Jason said.

“What about annoying tourists?”

“No,” they all said in unison.

“Bah. Fine. Just don’t take too long, or I’m coming after you with ballistae blazing.”

Magnus glanced at Alex uncertainly. “You sure?”

“Yep,” Alex said, popping the p. “I have something I have to do. Don’t die on me, Maggie.”

“I think my chances of staying alive are exponentially higher than yours.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

Piper almost said something about her vision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jason has a pretty sad story. The kid was left to the wolves at age two and then was inducted into the legion at the ripe old age of three if his stripes are anything to go by. He never knew his birthday, nor did he know he had a sister until he was fifteen. It's stated that no one ever treated him normally because his dad was Jupiter, so when the time came where he actually had six other equals, he had no idea how to handle himself and felt pretty useless as he says in this chapter. Then Hera took his memories and shipped him off to the Greek camp. He got roped into the Prophecy of Seven and he feels like everything before Hera took his memories was like a dream. He had to watch his best friend explode while he was powerless to stop him and then never got to see Leo again after Leo came back to life because he died like hours or days before Leo arrived in California.
> 
> Yes, the description of the "apple pie life" was shamelessly taken from Supernatural.
> 
> Also... the way Hera is written and the way I read that last chapter with Piper in the series very much so makes me think this is an accurate interpretation of Rick's Hera. I don't think it's too far of a stretch to say Hera's idea of a perfect family is one mom, one dad, and a couple cute kids. I say cute kids, but I mean... all the people in this equation are probably attractive and don't have any type of disability. Gah, I don't like Hera.


	44. Nine Old Ladies Want to Look Pretty (Piper XLIV)

FINDING THE PLACE WAS EASY. Percy led them right to it, on an abandoned stretch of hillside overlooking the ruined Forum. Getting in was easy too. Jason’s gold sword cut through the padlock, and the metal gate creaked open. No mortals saw them. No alarms went off. Stone steps spiraled down into the gloom.

“I’ll go first,” Jason said.

“No!” Piper yelped.

“What is the problem with this place?” Magnus demanded. “You keep freaking out.”

Percy seemed to… realize? Know? “You’ve seen this place in your blade before.”

Piper nodded, her eyes stinging. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I saw the room down there filling with water. I saw the four of us drowning.”

Jason and Magnus frowned.

“Percy can’t drown,” Magnus pointed out.

Percy averted his gaze. “That’s the idea at least.”

“You can drown?” Jason asked.

“I’m  _ afraid _ of drowning,” Percy corrected. “I almost drowned in the muskeg in Alaska and—” he cut himself off. “You know what? Doesn’t matter.”

“Maybe the future has changed,” Jason speculated. “In the image you showed us just now, there wasn’t any water.”

Piper wished he was right, but she suspected they wouldn’t be so lucky.

“So let’s go down and if there’s water, we leave,” Magnus suggested.

It was a hard suggestion to argue with other than the  _ possibility _ that they might drown, so they filled in behind Percy as he lead them down the stairs.

They descended cautiously. Percy took the lead, with Riptide drawn. Magnus followed suit, bringing out Jack, but not letting go of his sword to let him fly along beside him. Piper followed, and Jason walked behind her, guarding their backs. The stairwell was a cramped corkscrew of masonry, no more than six feet in diameter.

Piper kept her eyes open for traps. With every turn of the stairs, she anticipated an ambush. She had no weapon, just the cornucopia on a leather cord over her shoulder. If worse came to worst, the boys’ swords wouldn’t do much good in such close quarters. Maybe Piper could shoot their enemies with high-velocity smoked hams.

As they wound their way underground, Piper saw old graffiti gouged into the stones: Roman numerals, names and phrases in Italian. That meant other people had been down here more recently than the Roman Empire, but Piper wasn’t reassured. If monsters were below, they’d ignore mortals, waiting for some nice juicy demigods to come along.

Finally, they reached the bottom.

“Watch the last step,” Percy warned.

He jumped to the floor of the cylindrical room, which was five feet lower than the stairwell. Why would someone design a set of stairs like that? Piper had no idea. Maybe the room and the stairwell had been built during different time periods.

She wanted to turn and exit, but she couldn’t do that with Jason behind her, and she couldn’t just leave Percy and Magnus down there. She clambered down, and Jason followed.

The room was just like she’d seen it in Katoptris’s blade, except there was no water. The curved walls had once been painted with frescoes, which were now faded to eggshell white with only flecks of color. The domed ceiling was about fifty feet above.

Around the back side of the room, opposite the stairwell, nine alcoves were carved into the wall. Each niche was about five feet off the floor and big enough for a human-sized statue, but each was empty.

The air felt cold and dry. There were no other exits.

Percy stepped into the middle of the room.

Instantly, green and blue light rippled across the walls. Piper heard the sound of a fountain, but there was no water. There didn’t seem to be any source of light except for Percy’s and Jason’s blades and the glow from Jack.

“Señor,” Jack said nervously.

“It’s fine,” Magnus said, but Piper wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince himself or the sword.

“Do you smell the ocean?” Percy asked.

Piper hadn’t noticed at first. She was standing next to Percy, and he always smelled like the sea. But he was right. The scent of salt water and storm was getting stronger, like a summer hurricane approaching.

“An illusion?” she asked. All of a sudden, she felt strangely thirsty.

“There should be water here,” Percy said. “A lot of it. But there isn’t any. Magnus, your grandfather’s a sea god, right? You must feel it too.”

“Kind of,” Magnus said. “I’m thirsty.”

Jason moved to the row of niches. He touched the bottom shelf of the nearest one, which was just at his eye level. “This stone… it’s embedded with seashells. This is a nymphaeum.”

Piper’s mouth was definitely getting drier. “A what?”

“We have one at Camp Jupiter,” Jason said, “on Temple Hill. It’s a shrine to the nymphs.”

Piper ran her hand along the bottom of another niche. Jason was right. The alcove was studded with cowries, conches, and scallops. The seashells seemed to dance in the watery light. They were ice-cold to the touch.

Piper had always thought of nymphs as friendly spirits—silly and flirtatious, generally harmless. They got along well with the children of Aphrodite. They loved to share gossip and beauty tips. This place, though, didn’t feel like the canoe lake back at Camp Half-Blood, or the streams in the woods where Piper normally met nymphs. This place felt unnatural, hostile, and very dry.

Jason stepped back and examined the row of alcoves. “Shrines like this were all over the place in Ancient Rome. Rich people had them outside their villas to honor nymphs, to make sure the local water was always fresh. Some shrines were built around natural springs, but most were man-made.”

“So… no actual nymphs lived here?” Piper asked hopefully.

“Not sure,” Jason said. “This place where we’re standing would have been a pool with a fountain. A lot of times, if the nymphaeum belonged to a demigod, he or she would invite nymphs to live there. If the spirits took up residence, that was considered good luck.”

“For the owner,” Percy added. “But it would also bind the nymphs to the new water source, which would be great if the fountain was in a nice sunny park with fresh water pumped in through the aqueducts—”

“But this place has been underground for centuries,” Piper guessed. “Dry and buried. What would happen to the nymphs?”

The sound of water changed to a chorus of hissing, like ghostly snakes. The rippling light shifted from sea blue and green to purple and sickly lime. Above them, the nine niches glowed. They were no longer empty.

“You had to say it,” Magnus muttered.

Standing in each was a withered old woman, so dried up and brittle they reminded Piper of mummies—except mummies didn’t normally move. Their eyes were dark purple, as if the clear blue water of their life source had condensed and thickened inside them. Their fine silk dresses were now tattered and faded. Their hair had once been piled in curls, arranged with jewels in the style of Roman noblewomen, but now their locks were disheveled and dry as straw. If water cannibals actually existed, Piper thought, this is what they looked like.

“What would happen to the nymphs?” said the creature in the center niche.

She was in even worse shape than the others. Her back was hunched like the handle of a pitcher. Her skeletal hands had only the thinnest papery layer of skin. On her head, a battered wreath of golden laurels glinted in her roadkill hair.

She fixed her purple eyes on Piper. “What an interesting question, my dear. Perhaps the nymphs would still be here, suffering, waiting for revenge.”

* * *

The next time that she got a chance, Piper swore she would melt down Katoptris and sell it for scrap metal. The stupid knife never showed her the whole story. Sure, she’d seen herself drowning. But if she’d realized that nine desiccated zombie nymphs would be waiting for her, she never would’ve come down here.

She considered bolting for the stairs, but when she turned, the doorway had disappeared. Naturally. Nothing was there now but a blank wall. Piper suspected it wasn’t just an illusion. Besides, she would never make it to the opposite side of the room before the zombie nymphs could jump on them.

Jason stood to Piper’s left while Percy and Magnus flanked her right. All three had their swords ready, pointed at the nymphs. Piper was glad to have them close, but she suspected their weapons wouldn’t do any good. She’d seen what would happen in this room. Somehow, these things were going to defeat them.

“Who are you?” Jason demanded.

The central nymph turned her head. “Ah… names. We once had names. I was Hagno, the first of the nine!”

Piper thought it was a cruel joke that a hag like her would be named Hagno, but she decided not to say that.

“The nine,” Jason repeated. “The nymphs of this shrine. There were always nine niches.”

“Of course.” Hagno bared her teeth in a vicious smile. “But we are the original nine, Jason Grace, the ones who attended the birth of your father.”

Jason’s sword dipped. “You mean Jupiter? You were there when he was born?”

“Zeus, we called him then,” Hagno said. “Such a squealing whelp. We attended Rhea in her labor. When the baby arrived, we hid him so that his father, Kronos, would not eat him. Ah, he had lungs, that baby! It was all we could do to drown out the noise so Kronos could not find him. When Zeus grew up, we were promised eternal honors. But that was in the old country, in Greece.”

The other nymphs wailed and clawed at their niches. They seemed to be trapped in them, Piper realized, as if their feet were glued to the stone along with the decorative seashells.

“When Rome rose to power, we were invited here,” Hagno said. “A son of Jupiter tempted us with favors. A new home, he promised. Bigger and better! No down payment, an excellent neighborhood. Rome will last forever.”

“Forever,” the others hissed.

“We gave in to temptation,” Hagno said. “We left our simple wells and springs on Mount Lycaeus and moved here. For centuries, our lives were wonderful! Parties, sacrifices in our honor, new dresses and jewelry every week. All the demigods of Rome flirted with us and honored us.”

The nymphs wailed and sighed.

“But Rome did not last,” Hagno snarled. “The aqueducts were diverted. Our master’s villa was abandoned and torn down. We were forgotten, buried under the earth, but we could not leave. Our life sources were bound to this place. Our old master never saw fit to release us. For centuries, we have withered here in the darkness, thirsty… so thirsty.”

The others clawed at their mouths.

Piper felt her own throat closing up.

“I’m sorry for you,” she said, trying to use charmspeak. “That must have been terrible. But we are not your enemies. If we can help you—”

“Oh, such a sweet voice!” Hagno cried. “Such beautiful features. I was once young like you. My voice was as soothing as a mountain stream. But do you know what happens to a nymph’s mind when she is trapped in the dark, with nothing to feed on but hatred, nothing to drink but thoughts of violence? Yes, my dear. You can help us.”

“Or we could just give you nice, new, clean water?” Percy suggested weakly. “I’m the son of Poseidon. Magnus is the grandson of a sea god.”

“Dude!” Magnus hissed, eyeing Hagno warily.

“Ha!” Hagno cried, and the other eight echoed, “Ha! Ha!”

“Indeed, son of Poseidon,” Hagno said. “I know your father well. Ephialtes and Otis promised you would come. And you, Magnus Chase,” she said, looking at Magnus. “Well, they warned us you would be here too. A risky move on your part.”

“The giants,” Piper said. “You’re working for them?”

“They are our neighbors.” Hagno smiled. “Their chambers lie beyond this place, where the aqueduct’s water was diverted for the games. Once we have dealt with you… once you have helped us… the twins have promised we will never suffer again.”

Hagno turned to Jason. “You, child of Jupiter—for the horrible betrayal of your predecessor who brought us here, you shall pay. I know the sky god’s powers. I raised him as a baby! Once, we nymphs controlled the rain above our wells and springs. When I am done with you, we will have that power again. Percy Jackson, child of the sea god… from you, we will take water, an endless supply of water. And Magnus Chase, child of Frey… from you will take life and fertility.”

“I don’t really like this idea,” Magnus said.

“Me neither,” Percy said.

“And you, Piper McLean.” Hagno’s purple eyes glistened. “So young, so lovely, so gifted with your sweet voice. From you, we will reclaim our beauty. We have saved our last life force for this day. We are very thirsty. From you four, we shall drink!”

All nine niches glowed. The nymphs disappeared, and water poured from their alcoves—sickly dark water, like oil.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So close. So, so close to Nico. But the nymphaeum was unavoidable. Gotta pass through to get to Nico


	45. My Dad Tells Me A Bedtime Story (Piper XLV)

PIPER NEEDED A MIRACLE, not a bedtime story. But right then, standing in shock as black water poured in around her legs, she recalled the legend Achelous had mentioned—the story of the flood. Not the Noah story, but the Cherokee version that her father used to tell her, with the dancing ghosts and the skeleton dog.

When she was little, she would cuddle next to her dad in his big recliner. She’d gaze out the windows at the Malibu coastline, and her dad would tell her the story he’d heard from Grandpa Tom back on the rez in Oklahoma.

“This man had a dog,” her father always began.

“You can’t start a story that way!” Piper protested. “You have to say _Once upon a time.”_

Dad laughed. “But this is a Cherokee story. They are pretty straightforward. So, anyway, this man had a dog. Every day the man took his dog to the edge of the lake to get water, and the dog would bark furiously at the lake, like he was mad at it.”

“Was he?”

“Be patient, sweetheart. Finally the man got very annoyed with his dog for barking so much, and he scolded it. ‘Bad dog! Stop barking at the water. It’s only water!’ To his surprise, the dog looked right at him and began to talk.”

“Our dog can say  _ Thank you, _ ” Piper volunteered. “And she can bark  _ Out _ .”

“Sort of,” her dad agreed. “But this dog spoke entire sentences. The dog said, ‘One day soon, the storms will come. The waters will rise, and everyone will drown. You can save yourself and your family by building a raft, but first you will need to sacrifice me. You must throw me into the water.’”

“That’s terrible!” Piper said. “I would never drown my dog!”

“The man probably said the same thing. He thought the dog was lying—I mean, once he got over the shock that his dog could talk. When he protested, the dog said, ‘If you don’t believe me, look at the scruff of my neck. I am already dead.’”

“That’s sad! Why are you telling me this?”

“Because you asked me to,” her dad reminded her. And indeed, something about the story fascinated Piper. She had heard it dozens of times, but she kept thinking about it.

“Anyway,” said her dad, “the man grabbed the dog by the scruff of its neck and saw that its skin and fur were already coming apart. Underneath was nothing but bones. The dog was a skeleton dog.”

“Gross.”

“I agree. So with tears in his eyes, the man said good-bye to his annoying skeleton dog and tossed it into the water, where it promptly sank. The man built a raft, and when the flood came, he and his family survived.”

“Without the dog.”

“Yes. Without the dog. When the rains subsided, and the raft landed, the man and his family were the only ones alive. The man heard sounds from the other side of a hill—like thousands of people laughing and dancing—but when he raced to the top, alas, down below he saw nothing except bones littering the ground—thousands of skeletons of all the people who had died in the flood. He realized the ghosts of the dead had been dancing. That was the sound he heard.”

Piper waited. “And?”

“And, nothing. The end.”

“You can’t end it that way! Why were the ghosts dancing?”

“I don’t know,” Dad said. “Your grandfather never felt the need to explain. Maybe the ghosts were happy that one family had survived. Maybe they were enjoying the afterlife. They’re ghosts. Who can say?”

Piper was very unsatisfied with that. She had so many unanswered questions. Did the family ever find another dog? Obviously not all dogs drowned, because she herself had a dog.

She couldn’t shake the story. She never looked at dogs the same way, wondering if one of them might be a skeleton dog. And she didn’t understand why the family had to sacrifice their dog to survive. Sacrificing yourself to save your family seemed like a noble thing—a very doglike thing to do.

Now, in the nymphaeum in Rome, as the dark water rose to her waist, Piper wondered why the river god Achelous had mentioned that story.

She wished she had a raft, but she feared she was more like the skeleton dog. She was already dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly really like how Piper uses Cherokee stories to relate to situations throughout the series. And it kinda makes me think that maybe Cherokee mythology could be a real thing in this universe too? I mean, there's Greek and Roman and Norse and Egyptian, so why not Cherokee? Probably not going to happen, but it would be cool to see Piper and Shel and maybe even Mr. McLean dealing with Cherokee myths in Oklahoma. I dunno, I think that would be interesting.


	46. We're Already Dead (Piper XLVI)

THE BASIN FILLED WITH ALARMING SPEED. Piper, Jason, Magnus, and Percy pounded on the walls, looking for an exit, but they found nothing. They climbed into the alcoves to gain some height, but with water pouring out of each niche, it was like trying to balance at the edge of a waterfall. Even as Piper stood in a niche, the water was soon up to her knees. From the floor, it was probably eight feet deep and rising fast.

“I could try lightning,” Jason said. “Maybe blast a hole in the roof?”

“That could bring down the whole room and crush us,” Piper said.

“Or electrocute us,” Percy added.

“Not many choices,” Jason said.

Magnus finally let go of Jack. “Can you try and cut a hole in the roof?”

Jack glowed, but the light was dimmer than Piper was used to seeing. It looked like the room was draining Jack’s power.

“Sí, señor,” Jack said. He flew up to the roof and began slashing at the ceiling. It didn’t do much.

Magnus cried out as he slipped out of his niche and into the water. Percy cursed and dove after him. He and Magnus treaded water vigorously. Piper reached out a hand for Magnus while Jason reached for Percy.

“The water…” Percy gasped. “It’s not normal.”

_ The life force of the nymphs, _ Piper thought. It was so poisoned and malicious, even a son of the sea god couldn’t control it.

As the water rose around her, Piper felt it affecting her too. Her leg muscles trembled like she’d been running for miles. Her hands turned wrinkled and dry, despite being in the middle of a fountain.

The boys moved sluggishly. Jason’s face was pale. He seemed to be having trouble holding his sword. Percy was drenched and shivering. His hair didn’t look quite so dark, as if the color was leaching out.

Piper gasped. “Magnus!”

The water around Magnus was glowing. No.  _ Magnus _ was glowing.

“What? Gah!” Magnus yelped. His head dipped underwater for a second. When he came back up, he was sputtering.

Piper didn’t understand the glowing, but Magnus looked the worst out of all of them. His blonde hair looked so bleached it was almost white. He usually had a fairer skin tone, but now he appeared translucent and his stormy gray eyes were dulled.

She ran over what the nymphs had said.  _ Sky god’s powers… endless supply of water… beauty… life and fertility... _

“They’re taking our power,” Piper said. “Draining us.”

Magnus as the son of Frey, a Norse fertility god, was a perfect candidate for giving the nymphs a new life. And the poison water surely wasn’t helping.

Jason raised his sword. The room rumbled, but no lightning appeared. The roof didn’t break. Instead, a miniature rainstorm formed at the top of the chamber. Rain poured down, filling the fountain even faster, but it wasn’t normal rain. The stuff was just as dark as the water in the pool.

Every drop stung Piper’s skin.

“Not what I wanted,” Jason said.

The water was up to their necks now. Piper could feel her strength fading. Grandpa Tom’s story about the water cannibals was true. Bad nymphs would steal her life.

“We’ll survive,” she murmured to herself, but she couldn’t charmspeak her way out of this. Soon the poisonous water would be over their heads. They’d have to swim, and this stuff was already paralyzing them.

They would drown, just like in the visions she’d seen.

Jack fell into the water with a splash.

Magnus let out a strangled cry. “Jack!” He reached for the sword. It was no longer glowing, and it didn’t return to the pendant form. If a sentient sword could look lifeless, Jack accomplished that. Magnus didn’t look much better.

Percy wrapped an arm around Magnus like a lifeguard saving a drowning victim. He layed back with Magnus to keep them both floating, but Piper could see how tired it was making him.

_ You will need to sacrifice me, _ the skeleton dog had said in the story.  _ You must throw me into the water. _

Piper felt like someone had grabbed the scruff of her neck and exposed the bones. She clutched her cornucopia.

“We can’t fight this,” she said. “If we hold back, that just makes us weaker.”

“What do you mean?” Jason shouted over the rain.

The water was up to their chins. Another few inches, and they’d have to swim. But the water wasn’t halfway to the ceiling yet. Piper hoped that meant that they still had time.

“The horn of plenty,” she said. “We have to overwhelm the nymphs with fresh water, give them more than they can use. If we can dilute this poisonous stuff—”

“Can your horn do that?” Percy struggled to keep his head above water, which was obviously a new experience for him. He looked scared out of his mind.

“Only with your help.” Piper was beginning to understand how the horn worked. The good stuff it produced didn’t come from nowhere. She’d only been able to bury Hercules in groceries when she had concentrated on all her positive experiences.

To create enough clean fresh water to fill this room, she needed to go even deeper, tap her emotions even more. Unfortunately, she was losing her ability to focus.

“I need you both to channel everything you’ve got into the cornucopia,” she said. “Percy, think about the sea.”

“Salt water?”

“Doesn’t matter! As long as it’s clean. Jason, think about rain storms—much more rain. Both of you hold the cornucopia. Magnus, channel all your healing power into this.”

They huddled together as the water lifted them off their ledges. Piper recalled the safety lessons her dad had given her when they had started surfing. It was the same things she was seeing Percy do for Magnus, so she copied him with Jason. They held the cornucopia between them.

Nothing happened. The rain came down in sheets, still dark and acidic.

Piper’s legs felt like lead. The rising water swirled, threatening to pull her under. She could feel her strength fading.

“No good!” Jason yelled, spitting water.

“We’re getting nowhere,” Magnus agreed.

“You have to work together,” Piper cried, hoping she was right. “Think of clean water—a storm of water. Don’t hold anything back. Picture all your power, all your strength leaving you.”

“That’s not hard!” Magnus groaned.

“But force it out!” she said. “Offer up everything, like—like you’re already dead, and your only goal is to help the nymphs. It’s got to be a gift… a sacrifice.”

They got quiet at that word.

“Let’s try again,” Jason said. “Together.”

This time Piper bent all her concentration toward the horn of plenty as well. The nymphs wanted her youth, her life, her voice? Fine. She gave it up willingly and imagined all of her power flooding out of her.

_ I’m already dead, _ she told herself, as calm as the skeleton dog.  _ This is the only way. _

Clear water blasted from the horn with such force, it pushed them against the wall. The rain changed to a white torrent, so clean and cold, it made Piper gasp.

“It’s working!” Jason cried.

“Too well,” Percy said. “We’re filling the room even faster!”

He was right. The water rose so quickly, the roof was now only a few feet away. Piper could’ve reached up and touched the miniature rain clouds.

“Don’t stop!” she said. “We have to dilute the poison until the nymphs are cleansed.”

“What if they can’t be cleansed?” Jason asked. “They’ve been down here turning evil for thousands of years.”

“Just don’t hold back,” Piper said. “Give everything. Even if we go under—”

Her head hit the ceiling. The rainclouds dissipated and melted into the water. The horn of plenty kept blasting out a clean torrent.

On the other side of Percy, Magnus had his eyes closed and an almost blinding light radiated from him. Piper was hit with a wave of pure goodness. Echoes of voices rang through the room. Some of them she recognized and remembered, others she didn’t.

_ “It’s cute how you think I’d just leave you alone like this.” _

_ “I was hoping that maybe I could just stay here?” _

_ “Of course, Alex. You’re always welcome here.” _

_ “You drool when you sleep.” _

_ “I’m Jason. Your brother.” _

_ “You do have a pretty face. And you always look good.” _

_ “Give a girl some waning.” _

_ “Vulcan? I don’t even LIKE Star Trek.” _

_ “You’re lucky I don’t start up a punching line.” _

_ “I knew it! Piper!” _

The voices of her friends warmed her heart and lifted her spirits. Piper wasn’t sure if Magnus had done it purposefully, but suddenly Piper found herself with so much more to give. Her emotions and memories along with her youth and voice. They poured out of her like the water from the cornucopia. Soon, echoes of her and her father joined the voices.

Then they were underwater.

She held her breath. The current roared in her ears. Bubbles swirled around her. Light still rippled through the room, and Piper was surprised she could see it. Was the water getting clearer?

Her lungs were about to burst, but Piper poured her last energy into the cornucopia. Water continued to stream out, though there was no room for more. Would the walls crack under the pressure?

Piper’s vision went dark.

She thought the roar in her ears was her own dying heartbeat. Then she realized the room was shaking. The water swirled faster. Piper felt herself sinking.

With her last strength, she kicked upward. Her head broke the surface and she gasped for breath.

The cornucopia stopped. The water was draining almost as fast as it had filled the room.

With a cry of alarm, Piper realized that Percy’s and Jason’s faces were still underwater. She hoisted them up. Instantly, Percy gulped and began to thrash, but Jason was as lifeless as a rag doll. Magnus gave a dramatic Hollywood gasp, eyes flying open.

Piper clung to Jason. She yelled his name, shook him, and slapped his face. She barely noticed when all the water had drained away and left them on the damp floor.

“Jason!” She tried desperately to think. Should she turn him on his side? Slap his back?

“Piper,” Percy said, “I can help.”

He knelt next to her and touched Jason’s forehead. Water gushed from Jason’s mouth. His eyes flew open, and a clap of thunder threw Percy and Piper backward.

When Piper’s vision cleared, she saw Jason sitting up, still gasping, but the color was coming back to his face.

“Sorry,” he coughed. “Didn’t mean to—”

Piper tackled him with a hug.

Percy grinned. “In case you’re wondering, that was clean water in your lungs. I could make it come out with no problem.”

“Thanks, man.” Jason clasped his hand weakly. “But I think Piper’s the real hero. She saved us all.”

_ Yes, she did, _ a voice echoed through the chamber.

The niches glowed. Nine figures appeared, but they were no longer withered creatures. They were young, beautiful nymphs in shimmering blue gowns, their glossy black curls pinned up with silver and gold brooches. Their eyes were gentle shades of blue and green.

As Piper watched, eight of the nymphs dissolved into vapor and floated upward. Only the nymph in the center remained.

“Hagno?” Piper asked.

The nymph smiled. “Yes, my dear. I didn’t think such selflessness existed in mortals… especially in demigods. No offense.”

“Couldn’t you have just asked us instead of drowing us?” Magnus said. He looked a lot better than he had minutes ago. He looked  _ too _ healthy actually.

Hagno winced. “Sorry about that. I was not myself. But you, Magnus, have reminded me of the sun and the rain and the streams in the meadows. Percy and Jason, thanks to you, I remembered the sea and the sky. I am cleansed. But mostly, thanks to Piper. She shared something even better than clear running water.” Hagno turned to her. “You have a good nature, Piper. And I’m a nature spirit. I know what I’m talking about.”

Hagno pointed to the other side of the room. The stairs to the surface reappeared. Directly underneath, a circular opening shimmered into existence, like a sewer pipe, just big enough to crawl through. Piper suspected this was how the water had drained out.

“You may return to the surface,” Hagno said. “Or, if you insist, you may follow the waterway to the giants. But choose quickly, because both doors will fade soon after I am gone. That pipe connects to the old aqueduct line, which feeds both this nymphaeum and the hypogeum that the giants call home.”

“Huh-what?” Magnus repeated. “Why do you have to use complicated words?”

“Oh, home is not a complicated word.” Hagno sounded completely sincere. “I thought it was, but now you have unbound us from this place. My sisters have gone to seek new homes… a mountain stream, perhaps, or a lake in a meadow. I will follow them. I cannot wait to see the forests and grasslands again, and the clear running water.”

“Uh,” Percy said nervously, “things have changed up above in the last few thousand years.”

“Nonsense,” Hagno said. “How bad could it be? Pan would not allow nature to become tainted. I can’t wait to see him, in fact.”

Percy looked like he wanted to say something, but he stopped himself.

“Good luck, Hagno,” Piper said. “And thank you.”

The nymph smiled one last time and vaporized.

Briefly, the nymphaeum glowed with a softer light, like a full moon. Piper smelled exotic spices and blooming roses. She heard distant music and happy voices talking and laughing. She guessed she was hearing hundreds of years of parties and celebrations that had been held at this shrine in ancient times, as if the memories had been freed along with the spirits.

“What is that?” Jason asked nervously.

Piper slipped her hand into his. “The ghosts are dancing. Come on. We’d better go meet the giants.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The voices Piper hears when Magnus uses his powers are almost all lines from this series.
> 
> “It’s cute how you think I’d just leave you alone like this.” --> Annabeth to Percy before she helps him take the weight of the sky.
> 
> “I was hoping that maybe I could just stay here?” --> Alex asking to stay at Camp  
> “Of course, Alex. You’re always welcome here.” --> Percy responding
> 
> “You drool when you sleep.” --> obviously Annabeth and probably the only one that isn't directly in TSoOC series
> 
> “I’m Jason. Your brother.” --> Jason to Thalia
> 
> “You do have a pretty face. And you always look good.” --> Magnus to Alex  
> “Give a girl some waning.” --> Alex's response
> 
> “Vulcan? I don’t even LIKE Star Trek.” --> Leo after Jason says he's a son of Vulcan
> 
> “You’re lucky I don’t start up a punching line.” --> Nico when Percy comes back from Ogygia
> 
> “I knew it! Piper!” --> Silena when Piper is claimed
> 
> Yay, yay, yay. We're almost to the rescuing Nico part. Tomorrow's chapters... oh, those are going to be a fun upload.


	47. Magnus Claims Guest Rights. Spoiler: It Doesn't Work (Percy XLVII)

PERCY DIDN’T REALLY WAIT FOR HIS FRIENDS. Nico was in danger, and since Jason was breathing again and Piper was fine and Magnus was  _ more _ than fine, Percy didn’t really see any reason to hesitate.

“Wait up!” Piper called as Percy led the way through the drainage pipe.

Percy stopped. “What?”

Piper huffed as she tried to catch her breath. “You’re going too fast.”

Jason stumbled up to them. “I’m good. Keep going. Nico’s dying.”

“Are you okay?” Piper asked Magnus.

“I’m feeling great actually,” Magnus shrugged. “Usually I’m out like a light when I over use my healing or when Jack,” he tapped his pendant, “returns to me after intense fighting, but…” he shrugged again.

While Percy did admit that was strange, he hoped that it was the Fates way of saying,  _ You deserve a small break. _ He knew that was probably unlikely. Seriously, these monsters and gods were thousands of years old. Couldn’t they take a few decades off and let Percy live his life? Apparently not.

They continued on through the pipe. After thirty feet, it opened into a wider tunnel. To their left, somewhere in the distance, Percy heard rumbling and creaking, like a huge machine needed oiling. He had absolutely no desire to go in the direction of that sound, so of course that must be the way to go.

Several hundred feet later, they reached a turn in the tunnel. Percy held up his hand, signaling Jason and Piper to wait. He peeked around the corner.

The corridor opened into a vast room with twenty-foot ceilings and rows of support columns. It looked like the same parking-garage-type area Percy had seen in his dreams, but now much more crowded with stuff.

The creaking and rumbling came from huge gears and pulley systems that raised and lowered sections of the floor for no apparent reason. Water flowed through open trenches powering water-wheels that turned some of the machines. Other machines were connected to huge hamster wheels with hellhounds inside. Percy couldn’t help thinking of Mrs. O’Leary, and how much she would hate being trapped inside one of those.

Suspended from the ceiling were cages of live animals—a lion, several zebras, a whole pack of hyenas, and even an eight-headed hydra. Ancient-looking bronze and leather conveyor belts trundled along with stacks of weapons and armor, sort of like the Amazons’ warehouse in Seattle, except this place was obviously much older and not as well organized.

_ Leo would love it, _ Percy thought. The whole room was like one massive, scary, unreliable machine.

“What is it?” Piper whispered.

Percy wasn’t even sure how to answer. He didn’t see the giants, so he gestured for his friends to come forward and take a look.

About twenty feet inside the doorway, a life-size wooden cutout of a gladiator popped up from the floor. It clicked and whirred along a conveyor belt, got hooked on a rope, and ascended through a slot in the roof.

Jason murmured, “What the heck?”

They stepped inside. Percy scanned the room. There were several thousand things to look at, most of them in motion, but one good aspect of being an ADHD demigod was that Percy was comfortable with chaos. About a hundred yards away, he spotted a raised dais with two empty oversized praetor chairs. Standing between them was a bronze jar big enough to hold a person.

“There,” Magnus said, pointing at the jar.

Piper frowned. “That’s too easy.”

“Of course,” Percy said.

“But we have no choice,” Jason said. “We’ve got to save Nico.”

“Yeah.” Percy started across the room, picking his way around conveyor belts and moving platforms.

The hellhounds in the hamster wheels paid them no attention. They were too busy running and panting, their red eyes glowing like headlights. The animals in the other cages gave them bored looks, as if to say,  _ I’d kill you, but it would take too much energy. _

Percy didn’t know if he should be leading his friends a different way, but he also didn’t know if any of them could actually free Nico from the jar without one of the giants opening it. So he cautiously led them over water trenches and under rows of caged animals.

They had made it about halfway to the bronze jar when the ceiling opened over them. A platform lowered. Standing on it like an actor, with one hand raised and his head high, was the purple-haired giant Ephialtes.

Just like Percy had seen in his dreams, the Big F was small by giant standards—about twelve feet tall—but he had tried to make up for it with his loud outfit. He’d changed out of the gladiator armor and was now wearing a Hawaiian shirt that even Dionysus would’ve found vulgar. It had a garish print made up of dying heroes, horrible tortures, and lions eating slaves in the Colosseum. The giant’s hair was braided with gold and silver coins. He had a ten-foot spear strapped to his back, which wasn’t a good fashion statement with the shirt. He wore bright white jeans and leather sandals on his...well, not feet, but curved snakeheads. The snakes flicked their tongues and writhed as if they didn’t appreciate holding up the weight of a giant.

Ephialtes smiled at the demigods like he was really, really pleased to see them.

“At last!” he bellowed. “So very happy! Honestly, I didn’t think you’d make it past the nymphs, but it’s so much better that you did. Much more entertaining. You’re just in time for the main event!”

Jason and Piper drew their sword and cornucopia respectfully on Percy’s left while Magnus pulled Jack out again on Percy’s right. Having them there made Percy feel a lot better. This giant was smaller than a lot of monsters he had faced, but something about him made Percy’s skin crawl. Ephialtes’s eyes danced with a crazy light.

“We’re here,” Percy said, which sounded kind of obvious once he had said it. “Let our friend go.”

“Of course!” Ephialtes said. “Though I fear he’s a bit past his expiration date. Otis, where are you?”

A stone’s throw away, the floor opened, and the other giant rose on a platform.

“Otis, finally!” his brother cried with glee. “You’re not dressed the same as me! You’re…” Ephialtes’s expression turned to horror. “What are you wearing?”

Otis looked like the world’s largest, grumpiest ballet dancer. He wore a skin-tight baby-blue leotard that Percy really wished left more to the imagination. The toes of his massive dancing slippers were cut away so that his snakes could protrude. A diamond tiara was nestled in his green, firecracker-braided hair. He looked glum and miserably uncomfortable, but he managed a dancer’s bow, which couldn’t have been easy with snake feet and a huge spear on his back.

“Gods and Titans!” Ephialtes yelled. “It’s showtime! What are you thinking?”

“I didn’t want to wear the gladiator outfit,” Otis complained. “I still think a ballet would be perfect, you know, while Armageddon is going on.” He raised his eyebrows hopefully at the demigods. “I have some extra costumes—”

“No!” Ephialtes snapped, and for once Percy was in agreement.

The purple-haired giant faced Percy. He grinned so painfully, he looked like he was being electrocuted.

“Please excuse my brother,” he said. “His stage presence is awful, and he has no sense of style.”

“Okay.” Percy decided not to comment on the Hawaiian shirt. “Now, about our friend…”

“Oh, him,” Ephialtes sneered. “We were going to let him finish dying in public, but he has no entertainment value. He’s spent days curled up sleeping. What sort of spectacle is that? Otis, tip over the jar.”

Otis trudged over to the dais, stopping occasionally to do a plié. He knocked over the jar, the lid popped off, and Nico di Angelo spilled out. The sight of his deathly pale face and too-skinny frame made Percy’s heart stop. Percy hoped Nico was alive. If he was too late to save his cousin… He didn’t want to think about it. He wanted to rush over, but Ephialtes stood in his way.

“Now we have to hurry,” said the Big F. “We should go through your stage directions. The hypogeum is all set!”

Percy was ready to slice this giant in half and get out of there, but Otis was standing over Nico. If a battle started, Nico was in no condition to defend himself. Percy needed to buy him some recovery time.

Jason raised his gold gladius. “We’re not going to be part of any show,” he said. “And what’s a hypo—whatever-you-call-it?”

“Hypogeum!” Ephialtes said. “You’re a Roman demigod, aren’t you? You should know! Ah, but I suppose if we do our job right down here in the underworks, you really wouldn’t know the hypogeum exists.”

“I know that word,” Piper said. “It’s the area under a coliseum. It housed all the set pieces and machinery used to create special effects.”

Ephialtes clapped enthusiastically. “Exactly so! Are you a student of the theater, my girl?”

“Uh… my dad’s an actor.”

“Wonderful!” Ephialtes turned toward his brother. “Did you hear that, Otis?”

“Actor,” Otis murmured. “Everybody’s an actor. No one can dance.”

“Be nice!” Ephialtes scolded. “At any rate, my girl, you’re absolutely right, but this hypogeum is much more than the stageworks for a coliseum. You’ve heard that in the old days some giants were imprisoned under the earth, and from time to time they would cause earthquakes when they tried to break free? Well, we’ve done much better! Otis and I have been imprisoned under Rome for eons, but we’ve kept busy building our very own hypogeum. Now we’re ready to create the greatest spectacle Rome has ever seen—and the last!”

At Otis’s feet, Nico shuddered. Percy felt like a hellhound hamster wheel somewhere in his chest had started moving again. At least Nico was alive. Now they just had to defeat the giants, preferably without destroying the city of Rome, and get out of here to find their friends.

“So!” Percy said, hoping to keep the giants’ attention on him. “Stage directions, you said?”

“Yes!” Ephialtes said. “Now, I know the bounty stipulates that you and the girl Annabeth should be kept alive if possible, but honestly, the girl is already doomed, so I hope you don’t mind if we deviate from the plan.”

“What do you mean, she’s already doomed?” Magnus demanded. “She’s… she’s not—”

“Dead?” the giant asked. “No. Not yet. But don’t worry! We’ve got your other friends locked up, you see.”

Piper made a strangled sound. “Leo? Hazel and Frank?”

“Those are the ones,” Ephialtes agreed. “So we can use them for the sacrifice. We can let the Athena girl die, which will please Her Ladyship. And we can use you three for the show! Gaea will be a bit disappointed, but really, this is a win-win. Your deaths will be much more entertaining.”

Jason snarled. “You want entertaining? I’ll give you entertaining.”

Piper stepped forward. Somehow she managed a sweet smile. “I’ve got a better idea,” she told the giants. “Why don’t you let us go? That would be an incredible twist. Wonderful entertainment value, and it would prove to the world how cool you are.”

Nico stirred. Percy gave a silent cheer. Otis looked down at him. His snaky feet flicked their tongues at Nico’s head.

“Plus!” Piper said quickly. “Plus, we could do some dance moves as we’re escaping. Perhaps a ballet number!”

Otis forgot all about Nico. He lumbered over and wagged his finger at Ephialtes. “You see? That’s what I was telling you! It would be incredible!”

Percy knew Piper wasn’t going to pull it off, but one could always hope. Otis looked at his brother imploringly. Ephialtes tugged at his chin as if considering the idea.

At last he shook his head. “No… no, I’m afraid not. You see, my girl, I am the anti-Dionysus. I have a reputation to uphold. Dionysus thinks he knows parties? He’s wrong! His revels are tame compared to what I can do. That old stunt we pulled, for instance, when we piled up mountains to reach Olympus—”

“I told you that would never work,” Otis muttered.

“And the time my brother covered himself with meat and ran through an obstacle course of drakons—”

“You said Hephaestus-TV would show it during prime time,” Otis said. “No one even saw me.”

“Well, this spectacle will be even better,” Ephialtes promised. “The Romans always wanted bread and circuses—food and entertainment! As we destroy their city, I will offer them both. Behold, a sample!”

Something dropped from the ceiling and landed at Percy’s feet: a loaf of sandwich bread in a white plastic wrapper with red and yellow dots.

Percy picked it up. “Wonder bread.”

“Magnificent, isn’t it?” Ephialtes’s eyes danced with crazy excitement. “You can keep that loaf. I plan on distributing millions to the people of Rome as I obliterate them.”

“Wonder bread is good,” Otis admitted. “Though the Romans should dance for it.”

Percy glanced over at Nico, who was just starting to move. Percy wanted him to be at least conscious enough to crawl out of the way when the fighting started. And Percy needed more information from the giants about Annabeth, and where his other friends were being kept.

“Maybe,” Percy ventured, “you should bring our other friends here. You know, spectacular deaths… the more the merrier, right?”

“Hmm.” Ephialtes fiddled with a button on his Hawaiian shirt. “No. It’s really too late to change the choreography. But never fear. The circuses will be marvelous! Ah… not the modern sort of circus, mind you. That would require clowns, and I hate clowns.”

“Everyone hates clowns,” Otis said. “Even other clowns hate clowns.”

“I hate clowns,” Magnus offered.

“Exactly,” Ephialtes said. “But we have much better entertainment planned! The three of you will die in agony, up above, where all the gods and mortals can watch. But that’s just the opening ceremony! In the old days, games went on for days or weeks. Our spectacle—the destruction of Rome—will go on for one full month until Gaea awakens.”

“Wait,” Jason said. “One month, and Gaea wakes up?”

Ephialtes waved away the question. “Yes, yes. Something about August First being the best date to destroy all humanity. Not important!”

“I think it’s pretty important,” Magnus muttered.

“In her infinite wisdom, the Earth Mother has agreed that Rome can be destroyed first, slowly and spectacularly. It’s only fitting!”

“So basically, you’re Gaea’s warm-up act,” Percy said.

Ephialtes’s face darkened. “This is no warm-up, demigod! We’ll release wild animals and monsters into the streets. Our special effects department will produce fires and earthquakes. Sinkholes and volcanoes will appear randomly out of nowhere! Ghosts will run rampant.”

“The ghost thing won’t work,” Otis said. “Our focus groups say it won’t pull ratings.”

“Doubters!” Ephialtes said. “This hypogeum can make anything work!”

Ephialtes stormed over to a big table covered with a sheet. He pulled the sheet away, revealing a collection of levers and knobs almost as complicated-looking as Leo’s control panel on the  _ Argo II. _

“This button?” Ephialtes said. “This one will eject a dozen rabid wolves into the Forum. And this one will summon automaton gladiators to battle tourists at the Trevi Fountain. This one will cause the Tiber to flood its banks so we can reenact a naval battle right in the Piazza Navona! Percy Jackson, you should appreciate that, as a son of Poseidon!”

“Uh… I still think the letting us go idea is better,” Percy said.

“He’s right,” Piper tried again. “Otherwise we get into this whole confrontation thing. We fight you. You fight us. We wreck your plans. You know, we’ve defeated a lot of giants lately. I’d hate for things to get out of control.”

Ephialtes nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right.”

Piper blinked. “I am?”

“She is?” Magnus asked.

“We can’t let things get out of control,” the giant agreed. “Everything has to be timed perfectly. But don’t worry. I’ve choreographed your deaths. You’ll love it.”

“I hate choreographing my death,” Magnus said.

Percy figured he probably meant that in more ways than just saying that to tick the giants off.

Nico started to crawl away, groaning. Percy wanted him to move faster and to groan less. He considered throwing his Wonder bread at him.

Jason switched his sword hand. “And if we refuse to cooperate with your spectacle?”

“Well, you can’t kill us.” Ephialtes laughed, as if the idea was ridiculous. “You have no gods with you, and that’s the only way you could hope to triumph. So really, it would be much more sensible to die painfully. Sorry, but the show must go on.”

“I claim guest rights!” Magnus yelled.

Ephialtes blinked. “No, Vanir spawn. You cannot claim guest rights here.”

“Worth a shot,” Percy told Magnus.

“Well, I do not want to die painfully,” Magnus said, hefting Jack.

“Combat time?” Piper grabbed her horn of plenty.

“I hate Wonder bread,” Jason said.

“So do I, man,” Percy sighed.

Together, they charged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Magnus, no guest rights.
> 
> But, yay, Nico's alive!


	48. Jason Pulls a Chapter Thirty-Three (Percy XLVIII)

THERE WASN’T MUCH PERCY COULD DO about the twins disappearing. The giants vanished in twin puffs of smoke. They reappeared halfway across the room, each in a different spot.

Percy figured that since they did a decent job the first time—a.k.a. no one died—he might as well just do the same thing. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right? He sprinted toward Ephialtes, but slots in the floor opened under his feet, and metal walls shot up on either side, separating him from his friends.

The walls started closing in on him like the sides of a vise grip. Percy jumped up and grabbed the bottom of the hydra’s cage. He caught a brief glimpse of Magnus and Piper leaping across a hopscotch pattern of fiery pits, making their way toward Nico, who was dazed and weaponless and being stalked by a pair of leopards.

Meanwhile Jason charged at Otis, who pulled his spear and heaved a great sigh, as if he would much rather dance Swan Lake than kill another demigod.

Percy swung and dropped as the hydra snapped at his hands. He landed in a grove of painted plywood trees that sprang up from nowhere. The trees changed positions as he tried to run through them, so he slashed down the whole forest with Riptide.

“Wonderful!” Ephialtes cried. He stood at his control panel about sixty feet to Percy’s left. “We’ll consider this a dress rehearsal. Shall I unleash the hydra onto the Spanish Steps now?”

He pulled a lever, and Percy glanced behind him. The cage he had just been hanging from was now rising toward a hatch in the ceiling. He threw Riptide like a boomerang, belatedly remembering that that might have been the  _ one _ thing he  _ didn’t _ want to do like last time. Now he had no weapon.

The sword wasn’t designed for that, but the Celestial bronze blade sliced through the chains suspending the hydra. The cage tumbled sideways. The door broke open, and the monster spilled out—right in front of Percy.

“Oh, you are a spoilsport, Jackson!” Ephialtes called. “Very well. Battle it here, if you must, but your death won’t be nearly as good without the cheering crowds.”

Percy rolled to one side as all eight hydra heads spit acid, turning the floor where he’d been standing into a steaming crater of melted stone. Percy really hated hydras. It was almost a good thing that he’d lost his sword, since his gut instinct would’ve been to slash at the heads, and a hydra simply grew two new ones for each one it lost.

_ Yeah, _ Percy said.  _ There you go, Jackson. You threw away your sword on purpose. Excellent job. It wasn’t a mistake at all. _

The hydra lashed out. Percy ducked behind a giant hamster wheel and scanned the room, looking for the boxes he’d seen in his dream. He remembered something about rocket launchers.

At the dais, Piper stood guard over Nico as the leopards advanced. She aimed her cornucopia and shot a pot roast over the cats’ heads. It must have smelled pretty good, because the leopards raced after it.

About eighty feet to Piper’s right, Jason battled Otis, sword against spear. Otis had lost his diamond tiara and looked angry about it. He probably could have impaled Jason several times, but the giant insisted on doing a pirouette with every attack, which slowed him down.

Meanwhile Ephialtes laughed as he pushed buttons on his control board, cranking the conveyor belts into high gear and opening random animal cages.

The hydra charged around the hamster wheel. Percy swung behind a column, grabbed a garbage bag full of Wonder bread, and threw it at the monster. The hydra spit acid, which was a mistake. The bag and wrappers dissolved in midair. The Wonder bread absorbed the acid like fire extinguisher foam and splattered against the hydra, covering it in a sticky, steaming layer of high-calorie poisonous goo.

As the monster reeled, shaking its heads and blinking Wonder acid out of its eyes, Percy looked around for the missile launchers. He spotted a bazooka, a grenade launcher, a giant Roman candle, and a dozen other wicked-looking weapons. They all seemed to be wired together, pointing in the same direction and connected to a single bronze lever on the side. At the top of the easel, spelled in carnations, were the words: HAPPY DESTRUCTION, ROME!

Percy bolted toward the device. The hydra hissed and charged after him.

“I know!” Ephialtes cried out happily. “We can start with explosions along the Via Labicana! We can’t keep our audience waiting forever.”

Percy scrambled behind the easel and turned it toward Ephialtes. He didn’t have Leo’s skill with machines, but he knew how to aim a weapon.

The hydra barreled toward him, blocking his view of the giant.

“Duck and cover!” Percy yelled to his friends. He tugged the lever on the contraption which started to hiss and shake.

Percy leaped to one side as the easel fired. The sound was like a fiesta in the middle of an exploding gunpowder factory. The hydra vaporized instantly. Unfortunately, the recoil knocked the easel sideways and sent more projectiles shooting all over the room. A chunk of ceiling collapsed and crushed a waterwheel. More cages snapped off their chains, unleashing two zebras and a pack of hyenas. A grenade exploded over Ephialtes’s head, but it only blasted him off his feet. The control board didn’t even look damaged.

Across the room, sandbags rained down around Magnus, Piper, and Nico. Piper tried to pull Nico to safety, but one of the bags caught her shoulder and knocked her down.

“Piper!” Jason shouted. He turned away from Otis to run over there.

“I’ve got h—LOOK OUT!” Magnus yelled.

Jason turned just in time to see Otis throw his spear. Something flashed in Jason’s eyes as the spear sailed towards him. He wasn’t moving. Percy started running towards Jason, but he wasn’t going to make it in time.

The spear went straight through Jason’s stomach and pinned him to the wall behind him.

“Jason!” Percy screamed.

The son of Jupiter stared down at the spear jutting out of his stomach with an odd look like morbid curiosity.

“Magnus, do something!” Percy yelled.

Magnus’s face was pale as he scrambled towards Jason. “Keep them busy as long as you can!”

“AHHHHHHHHH!” Piper—despite her injury—was screaming while firing fruit from her cornucopia. “STAY AWAY FROM MY FRIEND!”

Percy was thankful for his talent at launching impossible missile strikes because at that moment, his missile-launching contraption spat out one last sphere of Roman candle fire. The fiery pink ball of death (naturally it had to be pink, Alex would have loved it) hit the ceiling above the twins and exploded in a beautiful shower of light. Colorful sparks pirouetted gracefully around the giants. Then a ten-foot section of roof collapsed and crushed them flat.

Percy and Piper ran to Jason’s side.

“Oh gods, oh gods,” Piper said hysterically. “Jason the spear…”

Magnus raised Jack. “Don’t move,” he ordered Jason. He cut the spear in half just in front of where it stuck out of Jason’s stomach.

Percy watched the scene in horror. Ever since learning about Jason’s death when he arrived in New Rome, he’d had the occasional nightmare about what he thought it looked like. Evil, twisted human faces with golden spears mercilessly stabbing his friend in the back while he was powerless to fight. But none of it compared to seeing the real deal.

Magnus eased Jason off the spear and laid him on the ground. He placed his hands over the wound that was bleeding dangerous amounts of blood and closed his eyes. A bright glow like back in the nymphaeum shone around them. As Percy watched, the blood flow seemed to stop and a little bit of color returned to Jason’s face.

“Jason!”

Percy turned around to see Nico crawling towards them.

“He’s going to be okay,” Percy said automatically, but he didn’t think Nico heard him.

Nico’s pale face was horror-struck and his eyes were haunted. He hadn’t told Percy how it was for him when he learned Jason had died, but Percy had gathered that Nico hadn’t taken it well. Now, Jason had been speared through. Again.

Magnus slumped to the ground next to Jason as the glow died down. Jason’s eyes flew open and he sat up in a panic.

“Piper! Giants! Nico! What?”

“Slow down,” Percy said. “You just came back from the dead.”

Jason blinked. “What?”

“You got speared,” Percy said.

Jason looked down at the bloody hole in his shirt. He peered through the hole to see a perfectly healed patch of skin. “Oh gods.”

Now that Jason wasn’t in danger of dying, Piper seemed to remember the pain her arm was in. She sat down by Magnus and dropped her cornucopia with a dazed look.

“Percy,” Nico croaked. “Giants. The controls.”

Percy looked over to see both giants reforming. Their heads and shoulders rising from the mounds of dust.

“On it,” Percy said. He pulled Riptide out of his pocket and lunged for the switchboard. He slashed his blade across the top, decapitating the controls in a shower of bronze sparks.

“No!” Ephialtes wailed. “You’ve ruined the spectacle!”

Percy turned too slowly. Ephialtes swung his spear like a bat and smacked him across the chest. He fell to his knees, the pain turning his stomach to lava.

Jason flew over to his side, wobbling slightly. Percy managed to rise and found himself shoulder to shoulder with Jason. Magnus was still passed out with Piper and Nico huddling by him.

The giants were healing, getting stronger by the minute. Percy was not.

Ephialtes smiled apologetically. “Tired, Percy Jackson? As I said, you cannot kill us. So I guess we’re at an impasse. Oh, wait… no we’re not! Because we can kill you!”

“That,” Otis grumbled, picking up his fallen spear, “is the first sensible thing you’ve said all day, brother.”

The giants pointed their weapons, ready to turn Percy and Jason into a demigod-kabob. Again in Jason’s case.

“We won’t give up,” Jason growled. “We’ll cut you into pieces like Jupiter did to Saturn.”

“You just died,” Percy said in alarm.

Jason shrugged. “I’m good. Magnus healed me. Besides, you can’t do this alone.”

“Fine,” Percy said. He looked at the giants. “You almost killed my friend. You’re both dead. I don’t care if we have a god on our side or not.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” said a new voice.

To his right, another platform lowered from the ceiling. Leaning casually on a pinecone-topped staff was a man in a purple camp shirt, khaki shorts, and sandals with white socks. He raised his broad-brimmed hat, and purple fire flickered in his eyes. “I’d hate to think I made a special trip for nothing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um... sorry? But, you know, at least I didn't actually kill-kill him. He's fine, Magnus healed him.


	49. Mr. B is Not Impressed (Percy XLIX)

PERCY HAD NEVER THOUGHT OF MR. D as a calming influence, but suddenly everything got quiet. The machines ground to a halt. The wild animals stopped growling. The two leopards paced over—still licking their lips from Piper’s pot roast—and butted their heads affectionately against the god’s legs. Mr. D scratched their ears.

“Really, Ephialtes,” he chided. “Killing demigods is one thing. But using leopards for your spectacle? That’s over the line.”

The giant made a squeaking sound. “This—this is impossible. D-D—”

“It’s Bacchus, actually, my old friend,” said the god. “And of course it’s possible. Someone told me there was a party going on.”

He looked the same as he had in Kansas, but Percy still couldn’t get over the differences between Bacchus and his old not-so-much-of-a-friend Mr. D.

Bacchus was meaner and leaner, with less of a potbelly. He had longer hair, more spring in his step, and a lot more anger in his eyes. He even managed to make a pinecone on a stick look intimidating.

Ephialtes’s spear quivered. “You—you gods are doomed! Be gone, in the name of Gaea!”

“Hmm.” Bacchus sounded unimpressed. He strolled through the ruined props, platforms, and special effects.

“Tacky.” He waved his hand at a painted wooden gladiator, then turned to a machine that looked like an oversized rolling pin studded with knives. “Cheap. Boring. And this…” He inspected the rocket-launching contraption, which was still smoking. “Tacky, cheap, and boring. Honestly, Ephialtes. You have no sense of style.”

“STYLE?” The giant’s face flushed. “I have mountains of style. I define style. I—I—”

“My brother oozes style,” Otis suggested.

“Thank you!” Ephialtes cried.

Bacchus stepped forward, and the giants stumbled back. “Have you two gotten shorter?” asked the god.

“Oh, that’s low,” Ephialtes growled. “I’m quite tall enough to destroy you, Bacchus! You gods, always hiding behind your mortal heroes, trusting the fate of Olympus to the likes of these.” He sneered at Percy.

Jason hefted his sword. “Lord Bacchus, are we going to kill these giants or what?”

“Well, I certainly hope so,” Bacchus said. “Please, carry on.”

Percy glared at him. “Didn’t you come here to help?”

Bacchus shrugged. “Oh, I appreciated the sacrifice at sea. A whole ship full of Diet Coke. Very nice. Although I would’ve preferred Diet Pepsi.”

“And six million in gold and jewels,” Percy muttered.

“Yes,” Bacchus said, “although with demigod parties of five or more the gratuity is included, so that wasn’t necessary.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Bacchus said. “At any rate, you got my attention. I’m here. Now I need to see if you’re worthy of my help. Go ahead. Battle. If I’m impressed, I’ll jump in for the grand finale.”

“We dropped the roof on them and saved Rome from doomsday,” Percy said. “What do you consider impressive?” He gestured to Jason. “Jason just practically _died_ and he’s back on his feet to fight.”

“Ah, a good question…” Bacchus tapped his thyrsus. Then he smiled in a way that made Percy think,  _ Uh-oh. _ “Perhaps you need inspiration! The stage hasn’t been properly set. You call this a spectacle, Ephialtes? Let me show you how it’s done.”

The god dissolved into purple mist. Piper, Magnus, and Nico disappeared.

“Hey!” Jason yelled. “Bacchus, where did you—?”

The entire floor rumbled and began to rise. The ceiling opened in a series of panels. Sunlight poured in. The air shimmered like a mirage, and Percy heard the roar of a crowd above him. The hypogeum ascended through a forest of weathered stone columns, into the middle of a ruined coliseum.

Not just any coliseum. It was  _ the  _ Colosseum. The giants’ special effects machines had gone into overtime, laying planks across ruined support beams so the arena had a proper floor again. The bleachers repaired themselves until they were gleaming white. A giant red-and-gold canopy extended overhead to provide shade from the afternoon sun. The emperor’s box was draped with silk, flanked by banners and golden eagles. The roar of applause came from thousands of shimmering purple ghosts, the Lares of Rome brought back for an encore performance. Vents opened in the floor and sprayed sand across the arena. Huge props sprang up—garage-size mountains of plaster, stone columns, and (for some reason) life-size plastic barnyard animals. A small lake appeared to one side. Ditches crisscrossed the arena floor in case anyone was in the mood for trench warfare. Percy and Jason stood together facing the twin giants.

“This is a proper show!” boomed the voice of Bacchus. He sat in the emperor’s box wearing purple robes and golden laurels. At his left sat Nico and Piper, her shoulder being tended by a nymph in a nurse’s uniform. Beside them, Magnus dozed in a chair. At Bacchus’s right crouched a satyr, offering up Doritos and grapes. The god raised a can of Diet Pepsi and the crowd went respectfully quiet.

Percy glared up at him. “You can’t just sit there!”

“The demigod is right!” Ephialtes bellowed. “Fight us yourself, coward! Um, without the demigods.”

Bacchus smiled lazily. “Juno says she’s assembled a worthy crew of demigods. Show me. Entertain me, heroes of Olympus. Give me a reason to do more. Being a god has its privileges.” He popped his soda can top, and the crowd cheered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaaaaah! This is why I love Trials of Apollo with Apollo finally realizing "wow. we were all a bunch of a-holes. my fellow gods STILL are."


	50. The Gods Suck, Life Sucks, Everything Sucks (Percy L)

BACCHUS REALLY TICKED PERCY OFF.

It wasn’t so much the fact that he thought himself above helping demigods. It was more of the fact that his attitude reminded Percy of Apollo’s punishment as Lester and how every single god would think that turning mortal was the worst punishment ever.

It was the reminder that Apollo truly  _ had _ changed and  _ resented _ the other gods for their treatment of demigods. It was the fact that for that to happen, Percy’s friend had to die and  _ that _ reminded him that said friend had almost died that same exact way only a few minutes ago.

Now Bacchus was telling him that as a god, he had certain privileges and if they wanted his help, they had to impress him.

Percy had half a mind to leave the battle and march off to Olympus and take on all the gods. Of course, that reminded him of something Luke Castellan told him years—it really was almost a decade at this point—ago, when Percy had come back from his first quest:  _ Didn’t you realize how useless it all is? All the heroics—being pawns of the Olympians? _

The honest answer was yes. Yes, he understood because he had gone through all this once before and he was going through his whole demigod life almost a second time. The first time, Percy had almost been the same age as Luke had been that summer. Now, he was technically almost the same age Luke had been when he died.

In all those years, Percy had been a pawn too many times. The Olympians seemed to take turns using him for the schemes. When he thought he was done, he got roped back in by the Egyptians and the Norse. And then this time travel thing happened.

So yes. Percy knew how useless it all was. Maybe the gods were better than the Titans, or the giants, or Gaea, but that didn’t make them good or wise. It didn’t make Percy like this stupid arena battle.

But he wasn’t fighting for the gods. He was fighting for his friends and for the people he cared about and who cared about him. Which meant fighting these giants and impressing Bacchus.

Ephialtes and Otis attacked. Together, the giants picked up a fake mountain as big as Percy’s New York apartment and hurled it at the demigods.

Percy and Jason bolted. They dove together into the nearest trench and the mountain shattered above them, spraying them with plaster shrapnel. It wasn’t deadly, but it stung like crazy.

The crowd jeered and shouted for blood. “Fight! Fight!”

“I’ll take Otis again?” Jason called over the noise. “Or do you want him this time?”

“No,” Percy said. “We attack together. Otis first, because he’s weaker. Take him out quickly and move to Ephialtes. Bronze and gold together—maybe that’ll keep them from reforming a little longer.” He eyed Jason. “You sure you’re up for this?”

Jason smiled dryly, like he’d just found out he would die in an embarrassing way.

“Not really, but we don’t have a choice,” he said. “And it’s a good plan, but Ephialtes isn’t going to stand there and wait while we kill his brother. Unless—”

“Good wind today,” Percy offered. “And there are some water pipes running under the arena.”

Jason understood immediately. He laughed, and Percy felt a familiar spark of friendship. He had missed that spark for years. It felt good.

“On three?” Jason said.

“Why wait?”

They charged out of the trench.

As Percy knew, the twins had lifted another plaster mountain and were waiting for a clear shot. The giants raised it above their heads, preparing to throw, and Percy caused a water pipe to burst at their feet, shaking the floor. Jason sent a blast of wind against Ephialtes’s chest. The purple-haired giant toppled backward and Otis lost his grip on the mountain, which promptly collapsed on top of his brother. Only Ephialtes’s snake feet stuck out, darting their heads around, as if wondering where the rest of their body had gone.

The crowd roared with approval, but Percy knew Ephialtes was only stunned. They had a few seconds at best.

“Hey, Otis!” he shouted. “The Nutcracker bites!”

“Ahhhhh!” Otis snatched up his spear and threw, but he was too angry to aim straight. Jason deflected it over Percy’s head and into the lake.

The demigods backed toward the water, shouting insults about ballet—which was kind of a challenge, as Percy didn’t know much about it. Annabeth would probably chastise him about not preparing for something he knew was coming.

Otis barreled toward them empty-handed, before apparently realizing that a) he was empty-handed, and b) charging toward a large body of water to fight a son of Poseidon was maybe not a good idea.

Too late, he tried to stop. The demigods rolled to either side, and Jason summoned the wind, using the giant’s own momentum to shove him into the water. As Otis struggled to rise, Percy and Jason attacked as one. They launched themselves at the giant and brought their blades down on Otis’s head. The poor guy didn’t even have a chance to pirouette. He exploded into powder on the lake’s surface like a huge packet of drink mix.

Percy churned the lake into a whirlpool. Otis’s essence tried to reform, but as his head appeared from the water, Jason called lightning and blasted him to dust again.

So far so good, but they couldn’t keep Otis down forever. Jason was showing signs of fatigue from his recent encounter with a spear. Percy was already tired from his fight underground. His gut still ached from getting smacked with a spear shaft. He could feel his strength waning, and they still had another giant to deal with.

As if on cue, the plaster mountain exploded behind them. Ephialtes rose, bellowing with anger. Percy and Jason waited as he lumbered toward them, his spear in hand. Apparently, getting flattened under a plaster mountain had only energized him. His eyes danced with murderous light. The afternoon sun glinted in his coin-braided hair. Even his snake feet looked angry, baring their fangs and hissing.

Jason called down another lightning strike, but Ephialtes caught it on his spear and deflected the blast, melting a life-size plastic cow. He slammed a stone column out of his way like a stack of building blocks.

Percy tried to keep the lake churning. He didn’t want Otis rising to join this fight, but as Ephialtes closed the last few feet, Percy had to switch focus.

Jason and he met the giant’s charge. They lunged around Ephialtes, stabbing and slashing in a blur of gold and bronze, but the giant parried every strike.

“I will not yield!” Ephialtes roared. “You may have ruined my spectacle, but Gaea will still destroy your world!”

Percy lashed out, slicing the giant’s spear in half. Ephialtes wasn’t even fazed. The giant swept low with the blunt end and knocked Percy off his feet. Percy landed hard on his sword arm, and Riptide clattered out of his grip.

Jason tried to take advantage. He stepped inside the giant’s guard and stabbed at his chest, but somehow Ephialtes parried the strike. He sliced the tip of his spear down Jason’s chest, ripping his purple shirt into a vest. Jason stumbled, looking at the thin line of blood down his sternum. Ephialtes kicked him backward.

Up in the emperor’s box, Piper cried out, but her voice was drowned in the roar of the crowd. Bacchus looked on with an amused smile, munching from a bag of Doritos.

Ephialtes towered over Percy and Jason, both halves of his broken spear poised over their heads. Percy’s sword arm was numb. Jason’s gladius had skittered across the arena floor. Percy glanced around wildly, looking for anything they could use to hold the giants off long enough for the  _ Argo II _ to get there.

Then he saw the dark oval shape descending rapidly.

From the lake, Otis yelled, trying to warn his brother, but his half-dissolved face could only manage: “Uh-umh-moooo!”

“Don’t worry, brother!” Ephialtes said, his eyes still fixed on the demigods. “I will make them suffer!”

The _ Argo II _ turned in the sky, presenting its port side, and green fire blazed from the ballista.

“Actually,” Percy said. “Look behind you.”

He and Jason rolled away as Ephialtes turned and bellowed in disbelief. Percy dropped into a trench just as the explosion rocked the Colosseum.

When he climbed out again, the  _ Argo II _ was coming in for a landing. Jason poked his head out from behind his improvised bomb shelter of a plastic horse. Ephialtes lay charred and groaning on the arena floor, the sand around him seared into a halo of glass by the heat of the Greek fire. Otis was floundering in the lake, trying to reform, but from the arms down he looked like a puddle of burnt oatmeal.

Percy staggered over to Jason and clapped him on the shoulder. The ghostly crowd gave them a standing ovation as the  _ Argo II _ extended its landing gear and settled on the arena floor. Leo stood at the helm, Alex, Hazel, and Frank grinning at his side. Coach Hedge danced around the firing platform, pumping his fist in the air and yelling, “That’s what I’m talking about!”

Percy turned to the emperor’s box. “Well?” he yelled at Bacchus. “Was that entertaining enough for you, you wine-breathed little—”

“No need for that.” Suddenly the god was standing right next to him in the arena. He brushed Dorito dust off his purple robes. “I have decided you are worthy partners for this combat.”

“Partners?” Jason growled. “You did nothing!”

Bacchus walked to the edge of the lake. The water instantly drained, leaving an Otis-headed pile of mush. Bacchus picked his way to the bottom and looked up at the crowd. He raised his thyrsus.

The crowd jeered and hollered and pointed their thumbs down. Percy had never been sure whether that meant live or die. He’d heard it both ways.

Bacchus chose the more entertaining option. He smacked Otis’s head with his pinecone staff, and the giant pile of Otismeal disintegrated completely.

The crowd went wild. Bacchus climbed out of the lake and strutted over to Ephialtes, who was still lying spread-eagled, overcooked and smoking.

Again, Bacchus raised his thyrsus.

“DO IT!” the crowd roared.

“DON’T DO IT!” Ephialtes wailed.

Bacchus tapped the giant on the nose, and Ephialtes crumbled to ashes.

The ghosts cheered and threw spectral confetti as Bacchus strode around the stadium with his arms raised triumphantly, exulting in the worship. He grinned at the demigods. “That, my friends, is a show! And of course I did something. I killed two giants!”

As Percy’s friends disembarked from the ship, the crowd of ghosts shimmered and disappeared. Piper, Magnus, and Nico struggled down from the emperor’s box as the Colosseum’s magical renovations began to turn into mist. The arena floor remained solid, but otherwise the stadium looked as if it hadn’t hosted a good giant killing for eons.

“Well,” Bacchus said. “That was fun. You have my permission to continue your voyage.”

“Your permission?” Percy snarled.

“Yes.” Bacchus raised an eyebrow. “Although your voyage may be a little harder than you expect, son of Neptune.”

“I know that!” Percy growled. “It’s always harder than I expect!”

“You might try the parking lot behind the Emmanuel Building,” Bacchus continued as if Percy hadn’t even said a word. “Best place to break through. Now, good-bye, my friends. And, ah, good luck with that other little matter.”

The god vaporized in a cloud of mist that smelled faintly of grape juice.

“Oh my gods!” Hazel screeched, running up to Jason. “You… you feel like death and your shirt! What happened?”

Jason winced. “Uh, I kinda… got speared?”

Hazel’s eyes widened. “You  _ what? _ Speared?”

“Magnus healed me,” Jason said quickly.

“Yur welc’m,” Magnus slurred, leaning against Piper.

Alex quickly moved to support Magnus’s other side. “I leave you alone for five seconds,” she said, shaking her head.

“L’v ya too,” Magnus mumbled.

Coach Hedge trotted up to Percy, with Frank, and Leo close behind. “Was that Dionysus?” Hedge asked. “I love that guy!”

“The giants said you were captured,” Piper said. “What happened?”

“Well, I expect a full story about, uh,  _ that _ ,” Leo said, gesturing to the bloody hole in Jason’s shirt. “But it was just another brilliant plan by Leo Valdez. You’d be amazed what you can do with an Archimedes sphere, a girl who can sense stuff underground, and a weasel.”

“I was the weasel,” Frank said glumly.

“Basically,” Leo explained, “I activated a hydraulic screw with the Archimedes device—which is going to be awesome once I install it in the ship, by the way. Hazel sensed the easiest path to drill to the surface. We made a tunnel big enough for a weasel, and Frank climbed up with a simple transmitter that I slapped together. After that, it was just a matter of hacking into Coach Hedge’s favorite satellite channels and telling him to bring the ship around to rescue us. After he got us, finding you was easy, thanks to that godly light show at the Colosseum.”

“I helped get you too,” Alex added.

“Okay. Annabeth,” Percy said. “We have to go get Annabeth.”

Leo winced. “Yeah. She’s still in trouble, we think—at least according to this vision Gaea showed us. Rescuing her is our next stop.”

The floor shook. The wooden planks began to disappear, spilling sand into the pits of the hypogeum below.

“Let’s talk on board,” Hazel suggested. “We’d better take off while we still can.”

* * *

They sailed out of the Colosseum and veered south over the rooftops of Rome.

All around the Piazza del Colosseo, traffic had come to a standstill. A crowd of mortals had gathered, probably wondering about the strange lights and sounds that had come from the ruins. As far as Percy could see, none of the giants’ spectacular plans for destruction had come off successfully. The city looked the same as before. No one seemed to notice the huge Greek trireme rising into the sky.

The demigods gathered around the helm. Jason bandaged Piper’s sprained shoulder while Hazel sat at the stern, feeding Nico ambrosia. Magnus claimed that he had done enough to get Nico moving, but apparently that was only temporary because Nico could barely lift his head. His voice was so quiet, Hazel had to lean in whenever he spoke.

Frank and Leo recounted what had happened in the room with the Archimedes spheres, and the visions Gaea had shown them in the bronze mirror. They quickly decided that their best lead for finding Annabeth was the cryptic advice Bacchus had provided: the Emmanuel Building, whatever that was. Frank started typing at the helm’s computer while Leo tapped furiously at his controls, muttering, “Emmanuel Building. Emmanuel Building.” Coach Hedge tried to help by wrestling with an upside-down street map of Rome.

Percy knelt next to Jason and Piper. “How’s the shoulder?”

Piper smiled. “It’ll heal. Both of you did great.”

Jason elbowed Percy. “Not a bad team, you and me.”

“Better than jousting in a Kansas cornfield,” Percy agreed. He sobered. “You scared me for a minute, Grace. Don’t you dare die on me again.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jason said with a wry grin. “I didn’t like it much.”

“There it is!” Leo cried, pointing to his monitor. “Frank, you’re amazing! I’m setting course.”

Frank hunched his shoulders. “I just read the name off the screen. Some Chinese tourist marked it on Google Maps.”

Leo grinned at the others. “He reads Chinese.”

“Just a tiny bit,” Frank said.

“How cool is that?”

“Guys,” Hazel broke in. “I hate to interrupt your admiration session, but you should hear this.”

She helped Nico to his feet. In this time, Nico’s skin hadn’t been completely bleached from his time in the Underworld, but he was usually a light olive. Now his skin looked like powdered milk and his eyes were dark and sunken.

“Thanks,” Nico rasped. “For getting me.”

“We’d never leave you,” Percy said firmly. “You’re an idiot though. You know that? What were you thinking?”

Nico managed a smile. “Sorry.”

“Did you find the Doors?” Jason asked.

Nico nodded after a slight hesitation. Then he doubled over in a fit of coughing. Hazel held his shoulders until he could stand again.

“I thought I could go anywhere in the Underworld,” Nico said. “But… it’s too strong. Like running from a black hole.”

“Um…” Frank chewed his lip. “What kind of black hole are you talking about?”

“The Doors of Death have two sides,” Nico said, avoiding the question. “We can reach the mortal side easily. It’s in the House of Hades, an underground temple in Epirus. It’s heavily guarded though. In the Underworld… that side of the Doors…”

“Tartarus,” Percy managed to spit out. His hands had gone clammy. How much longer did he have? Minutes? Hours? What if Annabeth was already falling? Would he jump in after her?

Nico nodded. He didn’t say anything else.

Hazel pursed her lips. “No mortal has ever been to Tartarus,” she explained. “At least, no one has ever gone in and returned alive. It’s the maximum-security prison of Hades, where the old Titans and the other enemies of the gods are bound. It’s where all monsters go when they die on the earth. It’s… well, no one knows exactly what it’s like.”

Her eyes drifted to her brother. The rest of her thought didn’t need to be spoken: No one except Nico. That was true. Not even Percy or Annabeth had seen the real form the Pit took. Only Nico had seen that.

Hazel handed Nico his black sword.

Nico leaned on it like it was an old man’s cane. “Even the gods don’t go into Tartarus. Even the god of death, Thanatos himself, wouldn’t go near that place.”

Leo glanced over from the wheel. “So let me guess. We’ll have to go there.”

“Let’s not and say we did,” Alex said, looking at Percy.

Percy ignored her. “After we get Annabeth, the  _ Argo II _ will sail for Epirus. We can figure out how to close the Doors on the way.”

Hazel bit her lip. “The Doors  _ have to _ be closed on both sides.”

Nico’s shattered glass eyes stared at Percy. Percy swallowed. Something inside of Nico had broken permanently after two trips through Tartarus. He and Annabeth had been lucky to escape with wounds that could heal in time. Percy wondered if they weren’t going to be that lucky this time.

“There has to be a way,” Jason said.

Nobody volunteered any brilliant ideas.

Percy thought his stomach was sinking. Then he realized the entire ship was descending toward a big building like a palace.

“We’ll figure out the Tar… Tartarus problem later,” he said. “Is that the Emmanuel Building?”

Leo nodded. “Bacchus said something about the parking lot in the back? Well, there it is. What now?”

“We have to get her out,” Percy said.

“Well, yeah,” Leo agreed. “But, uh…”

He looked like he wanted to say,  _ What if we’re too late? _

Wisely, he changed tack. “There’s a parking lot in the way.”

Percy looked at Coach Hedge. “Bacchus said something about  _ breaking through _ . Coach, you still have ammo for those ballistae?”

The satyr grinned like a wild goat. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy crap! This story is almost done! At least two more days because I'll probably end up posting 51 & 52 tomorrow then 53, 54, & 55 the next day.
> 
> Also... very important question... Do y'all want the Fiat to be red or blue because it's red in MoA and blue in HoH. Or shall I pick a more exotic color? Purple? Flamingo pink? Perhaps one of those zebra design cars? I'm kidding.
> 
> But seriously, I haven't picked the color yet, so if anyone has a serious preference for one color over the other, lemme know.


	51. Percy Wants to Spill the Beans (Nico LI)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Little bit of Tower of Nero spoilers ahead. Some stuff is alluded to from the end of the book, some new creatures are mentioned, and some Nico/Will stuff from the book is kinda mentioned. It won't spoil the book's plot for you if you continue to read though.

IT HAD SEEMED SO EASY IN WORDS, but now that he had lived through it… Nico wished he had kept his mouth shut.

Tartarus the second time was so much worse than the first time. With each step, Nico could hear voices that spoke with barbed wire.

_ “We’ll figure it out,” Will told him. “Rachel’s prophecy, Tartarus, the troglodytes… We’ll figure it out together.” _

_ “We’ll figure something out,” Percy said. “You won’t have to go. Annabeth and I know what to do. Leave Tartarus to us.” _

_ “Talk to Mr. D,” Will said. “Figure out what’s real, then we’ll go there. Together.” _

Will…

He didn’t know if Will knew what had really happened. For all Will knew, Nico could have gotten stuck with the  _ Argo II _ crew. Unless of course, the crew had told Camp Half-Blood that they were looking for Nico. In that case, Will probably had figured it out.

Nico swallowed. Swallowing hurt. His throat was dry and raw from the Phlegethon and the days in the jar.

“I’ll be right back,” Percy said to the demigods. “I’m going to grab my emergency pack. I don’t think it’s a good idea for Magnus to do any more healing.” He dashed off before anyone could say anything.

“I’m going to supervise Coach,” Leo said after a second. “Uh, I guess we should all get ready to head down and rescue Annabeth. Jason, you should probably change your shirt.”

Jason glanced down at the bloodstains. “Right.”

Percy reappeared with a backpack on his back. “Hey. Uh, do you mind if I talk to Nico? Privately?”

Hazel looked at Nico like she was asking for his permission. He nodded and Hazel moved further down the rail to stand with Frank.

“How are you?” Percy asked gently.

“I’m okay,” Nico whispered. “I’ll be good. I just… need a few days. Does Will… does he know what I did?”

The look on Percy’s face answered that question. He winced. “Uh, so does Bianca for that matter.”

Nico cursed. "I forgot she was alive. It seemed like a dream when I was in the jar." He let out a breath. “How mad?”

“Will stormed out of the IM,” Percy said. “Bianca’s not angry. I don’t think she is, anyway. She’s just… disappointed? Worried? Which is worse, in a way.”

“Do you think I screwed things up?”

Percy blinked. “With you and Will? I think it would take more than going on a suicidal quest for Will to not forgive you. Will likes Nico di Angelo, but Nico di Angelo doesn’t have a problem putting himself in potential harm and that ends up hurting the guy Will likes. But I think he likes that about you too. Risking your life for others. I don’t know. Don’t ask me for love advice.”

“Jason almost died,” Nico said.

He’d felt that back in the Coliseum. Jason’s life force had started fading rapidly for a few minutes and then suddenly it was shining bright again.

“That’s actually what I wanted to tell you,” Percy said. He chewed his lip like he was deciding how to say this. “Jason’s been having dreams. Piper and Leo too. Well, they’ve seen these visions of sorts. Jason actually has the dreams. He’s dreaming the future.  _ Our _ future. The future we came from. He  _ saw _ his death. Annabeth and I, we had a feeling something like this would happen. One of these dreams or visions happens during battle. It could be just as dangerous as Hazel’s flashbacks. I don’t want to put this on you Nico, but I thought you should know. And… maybe you should tell them the truth after Annabeth and I…”

Nico couldn’t believe what Percy was telling him. He should have expected this to be honest. When had anything ever been easy? Naturally, the Fates would throw them a curve ball that was called “giving Percy, Annabeth, and Nico’s friends glimpses of the lives they should have had”.

“You want me to tell them we’re from the future?” Nico asked.

Percy shifted. “Well, you and Alex and Magnus, I guess. Uh, everyone knows they’re Norse, too. Just so you know.”

“I’ll think about it,” Nico conceded. “I’d like to, you know, talk about it with Magnus and Alex and get some of my strength back first though.”

“Hey, guys,” Alex said, coming up next to Percy. She crossed her arms. “Nice bag.”

“Thanks?” Percy said, looking confused.

“Don’t do this,” Alex said lowly. “I’ve been thinking. There has to be another way, right? We could send someone through the Doors in Epirus, have them close it and then come right back out, right?”

Percy’s shoulders slumped. “Please don’t offer me an out, Alex. Annabeth and I are going to do this. If we try to fight it, well, Fate has a funny way of making sure it’s not avoided. Annabeth is  _ supposed to _ fall. I don’t know if I am. If we fight it, a hole opens under her and she falls alone. I won’t take that chance. I appreciate you trying, but it’s got to be this way.”

“Magnus and I can go with you,” Alex suggested. “What if we got a team to go?”

“No,” Percy said.

“We need everyone to help get to the Doors in Epirus,” Nico added.

“And I need you and Magnus to help Nico explain,” Percy said.

Alex gave them a strange look. “Explain what?”

“That we’re from the future,” Percy said.

Alex’s eyes went wide. “You want to  _ tell _ them?”

“No more secrets,” Percy said. “It almost got Jason killed today. They have to know what those visions are.”

“We’re going to be traveling for a few days before we hit any big problems,” Nico said quietly. “I think we should figure out what to say in those days while I recover and then… then we tell them.”

“I don’t like this,” Alex said.

“We have to,” Percy said. “This is the best option.”

“It’s not the best option for you,” she said. She looked at Nico. “For either of you.”

“It’s called being a demigod,” Nico said. “It sucks.”

Percy looked at Nico. “I’m going to hug you.”

Nico groaned. “Get it over with.”

Percy hugged him tightly. He was gentle enough not to permanently bruise Nico, but the pressure was still suffocating. Nico ignored the feeling that he was back in the jar. It was just a hug.

“You know I love you, right?” Percy asked quietly. “You’re my cousin.”

Nico almost smiled. “That would have hurt me a lot more than it would have helped if this was the first time. But yeah. I know. I… you know.” He gestured at Percy.

Percy did smile. “Love me too?”

“Not my type,” Nico said automatically.

Percy laughed. “It’s good to have you back.” His smile faded as the ballistae aimed and fired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dun! Percy wanted to tell everyone about the future. Or, rather, he wants Nico, Magnus, and Alex to tell the others about the whole time travel thing.


	52. Flattery Becomes My Greatest Weapon (Annabeth LII)

“A DEAL?” ARACHNE ASKED.

Annabeth took a deep breath. She would not be intimidated by Arachne. She had come too far to let her terror win out.

The monstrous creature picked her way down from the top of the web-covered statue. She moved from strand to strand, hissing with pleasure, her four eyes glittering in the dark. Either she was not in a hurry, or she was slow.

Annabeth was pretty sure it was the first one.

She tried to keep her expression calm. She moved toward the nearest tapestry—a cityscape of Ancient Rome.

“Marvelous,” she said. “Tell me about this tapestry.”

Arachne’s lips curled over her mandibles. “Why do you care? You’re about to die. Now, what deal?”

“Well, yes,” Annabeth said, ignoring the question. “But the way you captured the light is amazing. Did you use real golden thread for the sunbeams?”

The weaving truly was stunning. Annabeth didn’t have to pretend to be impressed.

Arachne allowed herself a smug smile. “No, child. Not gold. I blended the colors, contrasting bright yellow with darker hues. That’s what gives it a three-dimensional effect.”

“Beautiful. So...” Annabeth said. “Did you see this scene yourself?”

Arachne hissed, her mouth foaming in a not-very-attractive way. “You are trying to delay your death. It won’t work.”

“No, no,” Annabeth insisted. “It just seems a shame that these beautiful tapestries can’t be seen by everyone. They belong in a museum, or…”

“Or what?” Arachne asked.

“Well, the deal I wanted to propose,” Annabeth said. “You see, I’m the official architect of Olympus.”

Arachne scuttled down the statue until she was perched atop the goddess’s shield. Even from that distance, Annabeth could smell the spider’s stink, like an entire bakery full of pastries left to go bad for a month.

“Are you challenging me?”

“No,” Annabeth said, shaking her head. “Just telling you who I am. But, as the official architect, I get to design the whole place. I haven’t finished yet. I’m still looking for a lot of quality public art. The throne room of the gods, for instance… I’m looking for someone really talented to fill that space. You… you have potential.”

Arachne’s hairy abdomen quivered. Her four eyes glimmered as if she had a separate thought behind each and was trying to weave them into a coherent web.

“You’re redesigning Mount Olympus,” she said. “My work… in the throne room.”

“Well, other places too,” Annabeth said. “The main pavilion could use several of these. That one with the Greek landscape—the Nine Muses would love that. And I’m sure the other gods would be fighting over your work as well. They’d compete to have your tapestries in their palaces. I guess, aside from Athena, none of the gods has ever seen what you can do?”

Arachne snapped her mandibles. “Hardly. In the old days, Athena tore up all my best work. My tapestries depicted the gods in rather unflattering ways, you see. Your mother didn’t appreciate that.”

“Rather hypocritical,” Annabeth said, “since the gods make fun of each other all the time. I think the trick would be to pit one god against another. Ares, for instance, would love a tapestry making fun of my mother. He’s always resented Athena.”

Arachne’s head tilted at an unnatural angle. “You would work against your own mother?”

“I’m just telling you what Ares would like,” Annabeth said. “And Zeus would love something that made fun of Poseidon. Oh, I’m sure if the Olympians saw your work, they’d realize how amazing you are, and I’d have to broker a bidding war. As for working against my mother, why shouldn’t I? She sent me here to die, didn’t she? The last time I saw her in New York, she basically disowned me.”

Annabeth told her the story. She shared her bitterness and sorrow, and it must have sounded genuine. The spider did not pounce.

“This is Athena’s nature,” Arachne hissed. “She casts aside even her own daughter. The goddess would never allow my tapestries to be shown in the palaces of the gods. She was always jealous of me.”

“But imagine if you could get your revenge at long last.”

“By killing you!”

“I suppose.” Annabeth scratched her head. “Or… by letting me be your agent. I could get your work into Mount Olympus. I could arrange an exhibition for the other gods. By the time my mother found out, it would be too late. The Olympians would finally see that your work is better.”

“Then you admit it!” Arachne cried. “A daughter of Athena admits I am better! Oh, this is sweet to my ears.”

“But a lot of good it does you,” Annabeth pointed out. “If I die down here, you go on living in the dark. Gaea destroys the gods, and they never realize you were the better weaver.”

The spider hissed.

Annabeth never knew if Athena hadn’t cursed her because she understood what Annabeth was trying to do or if she was just in such a bad way from the Greek and Roman schism, she wasn’t even paying attention.

“This will not do,” Arachne grumbled. “I cannot allow it.”

“Well…” Annabeth shifted her weight. A new crack appeared in the floor, and she stumbled back.

“Careful!” Arachne snapped. “The foundations of this shrine have been eaten away over the centuries!”

Annabeth’s heartbeat quickened. “Eaten away?”

“You have no idea how much hatred boils beneath us,” the spider said. “The spiteful thoughts of so many monsters trying to reach the Athena Parthenos and destroy it. My webbing is the only thing holding the room together, girl! One false step, and you’ll fall all the way to Tartarus—and believe me, unlike the Doors of Death, this would be a one-way trip, a very hard fall! I will not have you dying before you tell me your plan for my artwork.”

Annabeth’s mouth tasted like rust. One false move and she would be headed straight for Tartarus. Alone. Without Percy. Part of her was tempted to let that happen, if only to spare Percy from going through it a second time. The other part of her knew this was something they had to do together.

“Right, the plan,” Annabeth said. “Um… as I said, I’d love to take your tapestries to Olympus and hang them everywhere. You could rub your craftsmanship in Athena’s nose for all eternity. But the only way I could do that… No. It’s too difficult. You might as well go ahead and kill me.”

“No!” Arachne cried. “That is unacceptable. It no longer brings me any pleasure to contemplate. I must have my work on Mount Olympus! What must I do?”

_ Keep it simple, Annabeth, _ Frank told her.

“I suppose I could pull a few strings,” she conceded.

“I excel at pulling strings!” said Arachne. “I’m a spider!”

“Yes, but to get your work shown on Mount Olympus, we’d need a proper audition. I’d have to pitch the idea, submit a proposal, put together a portfolio. These tapestries are excellent. But the gods would require something really special—something that shows off your talent in the extreme.”

Arachne snarled. “Are you suggesting that these are not my best work? Are you challenging me to a contest?”

“Oh, no!” Annabeth laughed. “Against me? Gosh, no. You are much too good. It would only be a contest against yourself, to see if you really have what it takes to show your work on Mount Olympus.”

“Of course I do!”

“Well, I certainly think so. But the audition, you know… it’s a formality. I’m afraid it would be very difficult. Are you sure you don’t just want to kill me?”

“Stop saying that!” Arachne screeched. “What must I make?”

“I’ll show you.” Annabeth unslung her backpack. She took out the projector Beckendorf had made her months earlier.

“What is that?” Arachne asked. “Some sort of loom?”

“Kind of,” Annabeth said. “It holds a diagram of the artwork you would build.”

She pressed a button and the Chinese Handcuffs hologram sprung up. Annabeth had made the calculations already, so it was all set to go.

The golden light from the hologram illuminated the spider’s face. “You want me to make that? But this is nothing! So small and simple!”

“The actual size would be much bigger,” Annabeth cautioned. “You see these measurements? Naturally it must be large enough to impress the gods. It may look simple, but the structure has incredible properties. Your spider silk would be the perfect material—soft and flexible, yet hard as steel.”

“I see…” Arachne frowned. “But this isn’t even a tapestry.”

“That’s why it’s a challenge. It’s outside your comfort zone. A piece like this—an abstract sculpture—is what the gods are looking for. It would stand in the entry hall of the Olympian throne room for every visitor to see. You would be famous forever!”

Arachne made a discontented hum in her throat. Annabeth could tell she wasn’t going for the idea. Her hands started to feel cold and sweaty.

“This would take a great deal of web,” the spider complained. “More than I could make in a year.”

Annabeth knew that. Of course she knew that. She’d calculated the mass and size accordingly. “You’d need to unravel the statue,” she said. “Reuse the silk.”

Arachne seemed about to object, but Annabeth waved at the Athena Parthenos like it was nothing. “What’s more important—covering that old statue or proving your artwork is the best? Of course, you’d have to be incredibly careful. You’d need to leave enough webbing to hold the room together. And if you think it’s too difficult—”

“I didn’t say that!”

“Okay. It’s just… Athena said that creating this braided structure would be impossible for any weaver, even her. So if you don’t think you can—”

“Athena said that?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Ridiculous! I can do it!”

“Great! But you’d need to start right away, before the Olympians choose another artist for their installations.”

Arachne growled. “If you are tricking me, girl—”

“You’ll have me right here as a hostage,” Annabeth reminded her. “It’s not like I can go anywhere. Once this sculpture is complete, you’ll agree that it’s the most amazing piece you’ve ever done. If not, I will gladly die.”

Arachne hesitated. Her barbed legs were so close, she could’ve impaled Annabeth with a quick swipe.

“Fine,” the spider said. “One last challenge—against myself!”

Arachne climbed her web and began to unravel the Athena Parthenos.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No "you should just kill me" from Annabeth this time. Like Frank says. Keep it simple.


	53. Frank Zhang Has Now Inspired Both Percy and Me (Annabeth LIII)

ANNABETH LOST TRACK OF TIME.

All along the walls, small spiders scuttled in the darkness, as if awaiting their mistress’s orders. Thousands of them rustled behind the tapestries, making the woven scenes move like wind.

Annabeth sat on the crumbling floor and tried to settle her heart rate.  _ You are not going to fall right now, _ she chanted.  _ You are not going to fall right now. _

She watched in amazement and horror as Arachne worked, her eight legs moving with hypnotic speed, slowly unraveling the silk strands around the statue.

With its golden clothes and its luminous ivory face, the Athena Parthenos was even scarier than Arachne. It gazed down sternly as if to say,  _ Bring me tasty snacks or else. _ Annabeth could imagine being an Ancient Greek, walking into the Parthenon and seeing this massive goddess with her shield, spear, and python, her free hand holding out Nike, the winged spirit of victory. It would’ve been enough to put a kink in the chiton of any mortal.

More than that, the statue radiated power. As Athena was unwrapped, the air around her grew warmer. Her ivory skin glowed with life. All across the room, the smaller spiders became agitated and began retreating back into the hallway. Annabeth guessed that Arachne’s webs had somehow masked and dampened the statue’s magic.

Now that it was free, the Athena Parthenos filled the chamber with magical energy. Centuries of mortal prayers and burnt offerings had been made in its presence. It was infused with the power of Athena.

Arachne didn’t seem to notice. She kept muttering to herself, counting out yards of silk and calculating the number of strands her project would require. Whenever she hesitated, Annabeth called out encouragement and reminded her how wonderful her tapestries would look on Mount Olympus.

The statue grew so warm and bright that Annabeth could see more details of the shrine—the Roman masonry that had probably once been gleaming white, the dark bones of Arachne’s past victims and meals hanging in the web, and the massive cables of silk that connected the floor to the ceiling. Annabeth now saw just how fragile the marble tiles were under her feet. They were covered in a fine layer of webbing, like mesh holding together a shattered mirror. Whenever the Athena Parthenos shifted even slightly, more cracks spread and widened along the floor. In some places, there were holes as big as manhole covers. Annabeth almost wished it were dark again. The gaps and holes only served as a reminder of what was to come.

“So much silk,” Arachne muttered. “I could make twenty tapestries—”

“Keep going!” Annabeth called up. “You’re doing a wonderful job.”

The spider kept working. After what seemed like forever, a mountain of glistening silk was piled at the feet of the statue. The walls of the chamber were still covered in webs. The support cables holding the room together hadn’t been disturbed. But the Athena Parthenos was free.

The cracks seemed to be spreading across the floor more rapidly. According to Arachne, the malicious thoughts of monsters had eaten away at the shrine’s foundations for centuries. If that was true—and Annabeth was pretty sure it was—now that it was free the Athena Parthenos might be attracting even more attention from the monsters in Tartarus.

“The design,” Annabeth said. “You should hurry.”

She lifted the device for Arachne to see, but the spider snapped, “I’ve memorized it, child. I have an artist’s eye for detail.”

“Of course you do. But we should hurry.”

“Why?”

“Well… so we can introduce your work to the world!”

“Hmm. Very well.”

Arachne began to weave. It was slow work, turning silk strands into long strips of cloth. The chamber rumbled. The cracks at Annabeth’s feet became wider. If Arachne noticed, she didn’t seem to care.

Slowly, Arachne finished the long strips of silk and braided them together. Her skill was flawless. Annabeth couldn’t help being impressed. Arachne worked more quickly, bringing the strands together. Soon, the structure was done. At the feet of the statue lay a braided cylinder of silk strips, five feet in diameter and ten feet long. The surface glistened like an abalone shell, but it didn’t seem beautiful to Annabeth. It was just functional: a trap. It would only be beautiful if it worked.

Arachne turned to her with a hungry smile. “Done! Now, my reward! Prove to me that you can deliver on your promises.”

Annabeth studied the trap. She frowned and walked around it, inspecting the weaving from every angle. Then, she got down on hands and knees and crawled inside. She’d checked and double checked the measurements to be sure she got it right. She slipped through the silken tunnel without touching the sides. The webbing was sticky, but not impossibly so. She crawled out the other end and shook her head.

“There’s a flaw,” she said.

“What?!” Arachne cried. “Impossible! I followed your instructions—”

“Inside,” Annabeth said. “Crawl in and see for yourself. It’s right in the middle—a flaw in the weaving.”

Arachne foamed at the mouth and stamped her eight legs petulantly. “I do not make mistakes.”

“Oh, it’s small,” Annabeth said. “You can probably fix it. But I don’t want to show the gods anything but your best work. Look, go inside and check. If you can fix it, then we’ll show it to the Olympians. You’ll be the most famous artist of all time. They’ll probably fire the Nine Muses and hire you to oversee all the arts. The goddess Arachne… yes, I wouldn’t be surprised.”

“The goddess…” Arachne’s breathing turned shallow. “Yes, yes. I will fix this flaw.” She poked her head into the tunnel. “Where is it?”

“Right in the middle,” Annabeth urged. “Go ahead. It might be a bit snug for you.”

“I’m fine!” she snapped, and wriggled in.

As Annabeth had hoped, the spider’s abdomen fit, but only barely. As she pushed her way in, the braided strips of silk expanded to accommodate her. Arachne got all the way up to her spinnerets.

“I see no flaw!” she announced.

“Really?” Annabeth asked. “Well, that’s odd. Come out and I’ll take another look.”

Moment of truth. Arachne wriggled, trying to back up. The woven tunnel contracted around her and held her fast. She tried to wriggle forward, but the trap was already stuck to her abdomen. She couldn’t get through that way either.

“What—what is this?” she called. “I am stuck!”

“Ah,” Annabeth said. “I forgot to tell you. This piece of art is called Chinese Handcuffs. At least, it’s a larger variation on that idea. I call it Chinese Spidercuffs.”

“Treachery!” Arachne thrashed and rolled and squirmed, but the trap held her tight.

“It was a matter of survival,” Annabeth corrected. “You were going to kill me either way, whether I helped you or not, yes?”

“Well, of course! You’re a child of Athena.” The trap went still. “I mean… no, of course not! I respect my promises.”

“Uh-huh.” Annabeth stepped back as the braided cylinder began to thrash again. “Normally these traps are made from woven bamboo, but spider silk is even better. It will hold you fast, and it’s much too strong to break—even for you.”

“Gahhhh!” Arachne rolled and wriggled, but Annabeth moved out of the way. “I will destroy you!” she promised. “I mean… no, I’ll be very nice to you if you let me out.”

“I’d save my energy if I were you.” Annabeth took a deep breath, almost able to relax for the first time in hours. “My friends will be here soon.”

“You—you’re going to call them about my artwork?” Arachne asked hopefully.

Annabeth didn’t answer.

Arachne began to roll around again. “Your friends are going to kill me!” she shrieked. “I will not die! Not like this!”

“Calm down,” Annabeth said. “We’ll let you live. We just want the statue.”

“The statue?”

Annabeth gritted her teeth. “Yes.”

“Why do you want the statue? It’s horrible!”

“To unite the Greeks and Romans against Gaea,” Annabeth said. “Finally bringing them peace after all these centuries.”

Arachne screamed and flailed. A strand of silk shot from the monster’s spinnerets and attached itself to a tapestry on the far wall. Arachne contracted her abdomen and blindly ripped away the weaving. She continued to roll, shooting silk randomly, pulling over braziers of magic fire and ripping tiles out of the floor. The chamber shook. Tapestries began to burn.

“Stop that!” Annabeth dodged out of the way of the spider’s silk. “You’ll bring down the whole cavern and kill us both!”

“Better than seeing you win!” Arachne cried. “My children! Help me!”

_ Oh, great. _ The statue’s magic would keep the spiders at bay for a short time, but they were already edging forward as if gathering their courage. Their mother was screaming for help. Eventually they would pour in, overwhelming Annabeth.

“Arachne, stop it!” she yelled. “I’ll—”

Somehow Arachne twisted in her prison, pointing her abdomen toward the sound of Annabeth’s voice. A strand of silk hit her in the chest like a heavyweight’s glove.

Annabeth fell backwards. She slashed wildly at the webbing with her dagger as Arachne pulled her toward her snapping spinnerets. Annabeth managed to cut the strand and crawl away, but the little spiders were closing around her.

_ Please hurry, _ she thought.  _ Please. Any moment now. _

At that moment, the chamber groaned, and the cavern ceiling exploded in a blast of fiery light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter til the fall...
> 
> Also, I recognize that TECHNICALLY the moment when Frank had inspired both of them would have been when Percy decided to do the "Wakanda thing" back during Last Olympian. But TECHNICALLY Annabeth hadn't done the spidercuffs thing yet. In that timeline anyway. So... yeah.


	54. It's Raining Cars, Hallelujah It's Raining Cars (Annabeth LIV)

ANNABETH HAD SEEN SOME STRANGE THINGS BEFORE, but the strangest thing she’d ever seen was it raining cars.

As the roof of the cavern collapsed, sunlight blinded her. She got the briefest glimpse of the  _ Argo II  _ hovering above. It must have used its ballistae to blast a hole straight through the ground.

Chunks of asphalt as big as garage doors tumbled down, along with six or seven Italian cars. One would’ve crushed the Athena Parthenos, but the statue’s glowing aura acted like a force field, and the car bounced off. Unfortunately, it fell straight toward Annabeth.

She jumped to one side, flipping on her back in time to see a bright green Fiat 500 with hot pink rims (exactly the kind of car Annabeth expected Alex to drive) slam into Arachne’s silk trap, punching through the cavern floor and disappearing with the Chinese Spidercuffs.

As Arachne fell, she screamed like a freight train on a collision course; but her wailing rapidly faded. All around Annabeth, more chunks of debris slammed through the floor, riddling it with holes.

The Athena Parthenos remained undamaged, though the marble under its pedestal was a starburst of fractures. Annabeth was covered in cobwebs. She trailed strands of leftover spider silk from her arms and legs like the strings of a marionette, but somehow, amazingly, none of the debris had hit her.

As she waited for her friends, Annabeth quickly cut the strings of spiderwebs from her arms and legs. She wasn’t going to take the chance that she wasn’t going to be yanked down the chasm at the same time as before.

The army of spiders had disappeared. Either they had fled back into the darkness, or they’d fallen into the chasm. As daylight flooded the cavern, Arachne’s tapestries along the walls crumbled to dust, which Annabeth could hardly bear to watch—especially the tapestry depicting her and Percy.

But none of that mattered when she heard Percy’s voice from above: “Annabeth!”

“Here!” she sobbed.

All the terror seemed to leave her in one massive yelp. As the  _ Argo II _ descended, she saw Percy leaning over the rail. His smile was better than any tapestry she’d ever seen.

The room kept shaking, but Annabeth managed to stand. The floor at her feet seemed stable for the moment. Her backpack was missing, along with the projector. That was okay. Annabeth didn’t care. She was alive.

Annabeth was dimly aware of the  _ Argo II _ hovering to a stop about forty feet from the floor. It lowered a rope ladder, but Annabeth stood in a daze, staring into the darkness. Then suddenly Percy was next to her, lacing his fingers in hers.

He pulled her close and Annabeth buried her face in his chest and broke down in tears.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice shaking. “We’re together. We’re  _ always _ going to be together.”

Their friends gathered around them. Nico di Angelo was there which almost caused her to break down again.

“Nico!” she said.

He gave her a weak smile. “I’m okay, Annabeth.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

Nico shrugged. “It was my choice.”

“What happened?” Piper asked.

Annabeth started to explain. Talking was difficult, but as she went along, her words came more easily. Percy didn’t let go of her hand, which also made her feel more confident. When she finished, her friends’ faces were slack with amazement.

“Gods of Olympus,” Jason said. “You did all that alone.”

“My cousin,” Magnus said. “First child of Athena to find the Athena Parthenos. I’m proud of you!”

Everyone gazed at the statue.

“What do we do with her?” Frank asked. “She’s huge.”

“We’ll have to take her to Greece,” Annabeth said. “The statue is powerful. Something about it will help us stop the giants.”

_ “The giants’ bane stands gold and pale,” _ Hazel quoted.  _ “Won with pain from a woven jail.” _ She looked at Annabeth with admiration. “It was Arachne’s jail. You tricked her into weaving it.”

The prophecy hadn’t changed. It still said  _ won with pain, _ but Annabeth wondered if that meant the ropeburn or the emotional pain of walking straight to the pathway to Tartarus. Or maybe it was both.

Leo raised his hands. He made a finger picture frame around the Athena Parthenos like he was taking measurements. “Well, it might take some rearranging, but I think we can fit her through the bay doors in the stable. If she sticks out the end, I might have to wrap a flag around her feet or something.”

Annabeth shuddered. She imagined the Athena Parthenos jutting from their trireme with a sign across her pedestal that read: WIDE LOAD.

“What about you guys?” Annabeth asked, trying to keep her voice level. “The giants. How did that go?”

“Um, really great,” Percy said. “You know, until Jason got speared, but it’s okay because Magnus saved him.”

Annabeth stared at Jason. “You got speared?”

Jason looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know what happened. It was like I couldn’t move. I… I freaked out or something.”

“Nico was barely conscious for that, so I talked to him about it,” Percy told Annabeth. His eyes seemed to say,  _ I’m pretty sure it’s the dreams and I think they need to know. _ Annabeth couldn’t agree more.

“We found out where the Doors are,” Hazel said. “But…”

“The mortal side is in Epirus,” Frank said. “The other side is in Tartarus.”

The word seemed to echo through the chamber. The pit behind them exhaled a cold blast of air.

The chamber groaned. The Athena Parthenos tilted to one side. Its head caught on one of Arachne’s support cables, but the marble foundation under the pedestal was crumbling. Nausea swelled in Annabeth’s chest. It was almost time.

“Secure it!” she cried.

Her friends understood immediately.

“Zhang!” Leo cried. “Get me to the helm, quick! The coach is up there alone. Alex, I’m going to need your help too.”

“Frank is carrying you,” Alex muttered. She seemed reluctant to leave, but after Frank transformed into a giant eagle and flew Leo up to the ship, she scowled and joined them.

Jason wrapped his arm around Piper. He turned to Percy. “Back for you guys in a sec.” He summoned the wind and shot into the air.

“This floor won’t last!” Hazel warned. “The rest of us should get to the ladder.”

Plumes of dust and cobwebs blasted from holes in the floor. The spider’s silk support cables trembled like massive guitar strings and began to snap. Hazel lunged for the bottom of the rope ladder and gestured for Nico to follow, but Nico was in no condition to sprint.

Percy gripped Annabeth’s hand tighter. “It’ll be fine,” he muttered.

Magnus looked at them. “What are you going to do? Jump?”

“I… I don’t know,” Annabeth stammered. “I don’t think… I don’t…”

She looked up and saw grappling lines shoot from the  _ Argo II _ and wrap around the statue. One lassoed Athena’s neck like a noose. Leo shouted orders from the helm as Jason, Alex, and Frank flew frantically from line to line, trying to secure them.

Nico had just reached the ladder when the floor began to tremble. The cracks spread faster and pieces of the floor started falling.

“Go!” Annabeth screamed at her cousin. “Get to the ladder!”

Magnus stumbled away with wide eyes. “Annabeth, come on!”

Percy’s grip on her hand tightened. “I’m with you. I’m with you.”

Annabeth’s stomach felt like it was about to fly out of her mouth. And then the floor underneath her was gone. She and Percy lunged for the next section of floor, catching the edge with their free hands.

Hazel screamed. She tried to climb back down the ladder, but her cavalry sword was tangled.

“Help them!” she yelled.

Nico met Annabeth’s eyes. She gave him a tiny smile that was meant to be reassuring in a way Annabeth was not feeling.

“Percy,” Annabeth whispered. “I can’t hold on.”

_ No escape, _ said a voice in the darkness below.  _ I go to Tartarus, and you will come too. _

Annabeth wasn’t sure if she actually heard Arachne’s voice or if it was just in her mind.

The pit shook.

Hazel was yelling for the others, but even if they heard her over all the chaos, they’d never make it in time. Magnus was clutching the ladder like a lifeline, eyes squeezed tight. Nico’s broken look was locked on them.

“The other side, Nico!” Percy shouted. “Lead them there! Promise me!”

Nico looked pained. “I—I will.” 

Below them, the voice laughed in the darkness.  _ Sacrifices. Beautiful sacrifices to wake the goddess. _

Percy tightened his grip on Annabeth’s hand. His face was gaunt, scraped and bloody, his hair dusted with cobwebs, but when he locked eyes with her, she thought he had never looked more handsome.

“We’re staying together,” he promised. “You’re not getting away from me. Never again.”

“As long as we’re together,” she said.

She heard Hazel still screaming for help. She saw Magnus pleading for her to pull herself up. She saw the sunlight far, far above—maybe the last sunlight she would ever see.

Then she and Percy let go of the edge, and together, holding hands, they fell into the endless darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kept their lines before they fall. I love them so much.
> 
> By popular demand, the colors of the Fiat 500 are Alex colors! Well, kind of. I put all the suggestions and the two original colors on a spinner to choose at random and since a lot of people picked pink and green... that's what I landed on.


	55. I Become Admiral of the Argo II (Leo LV)

LEO WAS STILL IN SHOCK.

Everything had happened so quickly. They had secured grappling lines to the Athena Parthenos just as the floor gave way, and the final columns of webbing snapped. Jason, Alex, and Frank dove down to save the others, but they’d only found Magnus, Nico, and Hazel hanging from the rope ladder. Percy and Annabeth were gone. The pit to Tartarus had been buried under several tons of debris. Leo pulled the  _ Argo II _ out of the cavern seconds before the entire place imploded, taking the rest of the parking lot with it.

The  _ Argo II _ was now parked on a hill overlooking the city. Jason, Hazel, and Frank had returned to the scene of the catastrophe, hoping to dig through the rubble and find a way to save Percy and Annabeth, but they’d come back demoralized. The cavern was simply gone. The scene was swarming with police and rescue workers. No mortals had been hurt, but the Italians would be scratching their heads for months, wondering how a massive sinkhole had opened right in the middle of a parking lot and swallowed a dozen perfectly good cars.

Dazed with grief, Leo and the others carefully loaded the Athena Parthenos into the hold, using the ship’s hydraulic winches with an assist from Frank Zhang, part-time elephant. The statue just fit, though what they were going to do with it, Leo had no idea.

Coach Hedge was too miserable to help. He kept pacing the deck with tears in his eyes, pulling at his goatee and slapping the side of his head, muttering, “I should have saved them! I should have blown up more stuff!”

Finally Leo told him to go below-decks and secure everything for departure. He wasn’t doing any good beating himself up.

The eight demigods gathered on the quarterdeck and gazed at the distant column of dust still rising from the site of the implosion.

Leo rested his hand on the Archimedes sphere, which now sat on the helm, ready to be installed. He should have been excited. It was the biggest discovery of his life—even bigger than Bunker 9. If he could decipher Archimedes’s scrolls, he could do amazing things. He hardly dared to hope, but he might even be able to build a new control disk for a certain dragon friend of his.

Still, the price had been too high.

He could almost hear Nemesis laughing.  _ I told you we could do business, Leo Valdez. _

He had opened the fortune cookie. He’d gotten the access code for the sphere and saved Frank and Hazel. But the sacrifice had been Percy and Annabeth. Leo was sure of it.

“It’s my fault,” he said miserably.

The others stared at him. Only Hazel seemed to understand. She’d been with him at the Great Salt Lake.

“No,” she insisted. “No, this is Gaea’s fault. It had nothing to do with you.”

Leo wanted to believe that, but he couldn’t. They’d started this voyage with Leo messing up, firing on New Rome. They’d ended in old Rome with Leo breaking a cookie and paying a price much worse than an eye.

“Leo, listen to me.” Hazel gripped his hand. “I won’t allow you to take the blame. I couldn’t bear that after—after Sammy…”

She choked up, but Leo knew what she meant. His bisabuelo had blamed himself for Hazel’s disappearance. Sammy had lived a good life, but he’d gone to his grave believing that he’d spent a cursed diamond and doomed the girl he loved.

Leo didn’t want to make Hazel miserable all over again, but this was different.  _ True success requires sacrifice. _ Leo had chosen to break that cookie. Percy and Annabeth had fallen into Tartarus. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

Nico di Angelo shuffled over, leaning on his black sword. “They’re not dead,” he said. “And it’s not your fault.”

“How can you be sure?” Leo asked. “If that pit really led to… you know… how could you sense them so far away?”

Nico and Hazel shared a look, maybe comparing notes on their Hades/Pluto death radar. Leo shivered. Hazel had never seemed like a child of the Underworld to him, but Nico di Angelo—that guy was creepy.

“We can’t be one hundred percent sure,” Hazel admitted. “But I think Nico is right. Percy and Annabeth are still alive… at least, so far.”

Jason pounded his fist against the rail. “I should’ve been paying attention. I could have flown down and saved them.”

“Me, too,” Frank moaned. The big dude looked on the verge of tears.

“As if,” Alex scoffed. “You can’t save someone who doesn’t want to be saved.” She stood up and stalked down to the cabins.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Piper asked even though Alex had disappeared.

“Someone had to fall,” Magnus said. “Someone had to go to Tartarus to find the Doors. If you’re going to tell me Percy wouldn’t volunteer himself, you’re kidding yourself.” He looked pensive. “It wasn’t anyone’s fault.”

Nico nodded. “Even if the pit hadn’t been buried, you couldn’t have flown into it without being pulled down. I’m the only one who has actually been into Tartarus. It’s impossible to describe how powerful that place is. Once you get close, it sucks you in. I never stood a chance.”

Frank sniffled. “Then Percy and Annabeth don’t stand a chance either?”

“Percy is the most powerful demigod I’ve ever met,” Nico said. “No offense to you guys, but it’s true. If anybody can survive, he will, especially if he’s got Annabeth at his side. They’re going to find a way.”

Jason turned. “To the Doors of Death, you mean. But you told us it’s guarded by Gaea’s most powerful forces. How could two demigods possibly—?”

“I don’t know,” Nico admitted. “But Percy told me to lead you guys to Epirus, to the mortal side of the doorway. If we can survive the House of Hades, fight our way through Gaea’s forces, then maybe we can work together with Percy and Annabeth and seal the Doors of Death from both sides.”

“And get Percy and Annabeth back safely?” Leo asked.

“They’ll come back,” Nico said.

Leo didn’t like the way Nico said that, as if he wasn’t sharing all the information. Besides, Leo knew something about locks and doors. If the Doors of Death needed to be sealed from both sides, how could they do that unless someone stayed in the Underworld, trapped?

Nico took a deep breath. “Percy and Annabeth will find a way. They’ll journey through Tartarus and find the Doors of Death. When they do, we have to be ready.”

“It won’t be easy,” Hazel said. “Gaea will throw everything she’s got at us to keep us from reaching Epirus.”

“What else is new?” Jason sighed.

Piper nodded. “We’ve got no choice. We have to seal the Doors of Death before we can stop the giants from raising Gaea. Otherwise her armies will never die. And we’ve got to hurry. The Romans are in New York. Soon, they’ll be marching on Camp Half-Blood.”

“We’ve got one month at best,” Jason added. “Ephialtes said Gaea would awaken in exactly one month.”

Leo straightened. “We can do it.”

Everyone stared at him.

“The Archimedes sphere can upgrade the ship,” he said, hoping he was right. “I’m going to study those ancient scrolls we got. There’s got to be all kinds of new weapons I can make. We’re going to hit Gaea’s armies with a whole new arsenal of hurt.”

At the prow of the ship, Festus creaked his jaw and blew fire defiantly.

Jason managed a smile. He clapped Leo on the shoulder. “Sounds like a plan, Admiral. You want to set the course?”

They kidded him, calling him Admiral, but for once Leo accepted the title. This was his ship. He hadn’t come this far to be stopped. They would find this House of Hades. They’d take the Doors of Death. And by the gods, if Leo had to design a grabber arm long enough to snatch Percy and Annabeth out of Tartarus, then that’s what he would do.

Nemesis wanted him to wreak vengeance on Gaea? Leo would be happy to oblige. He was going to make Gaea sorry she had ever messed with Leo Valdez.

“Yeah.” He took one last look at the cityscape of Rome, turning blood-red in the sunset. “Festus, raise the sails. We’ve got some friends to save.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE END! Wow! I can't believe it. Six stories in this series already. And this is the first story since Battle of the Labyrinth where I haven't included an epilogue.
> 
> Oh! I started a story for this series that will include the relevant shorts from Demigod Files and Demigod Diaries plus some new additions of my own. I was thinking about posting that next? So it would come up as seventh in The Sum of Our Choices series. It's not completely done yet, but the first two stories are. I'm mostly focused on getting the main series finished and posted. Anyway, I figure, I'll post those two shorts tomorrow along with the first two Hazel chapters from House of Hades since those a pretty short.


End file.
